FROM   THE   LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED    BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2011  witii  funding  from 

Calvin  College 


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The  Higher  Life 


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NEW    YORK 

BROUGHTON    AND    WYMAN 

1868 


Enteietl,  according  to  Act  of  Cougress,  in  the  year  1SG7,  by 

BROUGHTOX    H    WYMAX. 

In  the  Clerk's   office  of    the    District    Court   of   the   United  States  for   the  Soutlicrn 

District  of  New  Yorii. 


STEIiEOTYPEUB 


INTRODUCTION. 


TT^ERHAPS  in  nothing  is  the  substantial  unity 
-■-  of  the  Christian  Church,  with  all  her  varying 
modes  of  worship  and  symbols  of  belief,  more  sig- 
niiicantly  seen  than  in  her  "  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs."  The  theology  of  the  intellect  may  be  dis- 
cordant ;  but  the  theology  of  the  heart  is  harmonious. 
Hymns  are  the  expressions  of  religious  emotions, 
inspired  by  one  eternal  Spirit,  in  the  contemplation 
of  one  divine  Saviour,  or  in  adoration  of  one  heav- 
enly Father.  In  the  Psalms,  saints  of  all  ages,  of 
all  conditions  in  life,  in  all  the  varied  experiences 
of  joy  and  sorrow,  find  a  common  and  ample  utter- 
ance. Prayer  and  praise,  desire  and  gratification, 
want  and  fulness,  as  the  personal  consciousness  of 
individual  men,  never  fail  to  find  an  adequate  lan- 
guage for  their  expression  in  the  inspired  strains 
of  the  sweet  singers  of  Israel. 

3 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

In  like  manner,  in  the  "Hymns  of  the  Ages,"  — 
the  rich  inheritance  which  the  consecrated  psahnists 
in  our  Christian  Israel  have  bestowed  upon  the 
Church,  —  although  the  singers  themselves  differed 
widely  in  the  circumstances  under  which  they  sung, 
in  their  views  of  church  order  and  government,  and 
even  in  their  utterances  of  the  doctrines  of  their 
common  gospel,  still  their  collected  psalmody  forms 
but  one  mighty  organ  of  a  celestial  tone.  Every 
separate  singer  opens  a  different  "  stop "  in  the 
sublime  instrument ;  but  all  unite  in  a  divine  har- 
mony, forming  together  a  glorious  diapason,  re- 
sounding down  the  ages. 

Mr.  Toplady  and  Mr.  Wesley  were  widely  sepa- 
rated from  each  other  in  their  "  systems  "  of  grace ; 
but  the  former  expressed  the  experimental  effect  of 


*'  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee  ;  " 

and  Mr.  Wesley  poured  forth  from  his  lyre,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart,  his  confession  of  faith,  in  the 
memorable  words,  — 

"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosora  fly ; " 


INTRODUCTION.  5 

and  these  two  precious  hymns,  as  any  one  can  see 
and  feel  in  their  reading,  are  ojic. 

Our  hymn-books  have  been  greatly  enriched  in 
later  years,  and  have  become  the  treasure-houses 
of  the  abundant  offerings  which  gifted  hearts  have 
placed  upon  Christ's  altar.  Many  sweet  hymns  have 
been  shortened  to  meet  the  requisitions  of  the  "  ser- 
vice of  song ; "  and  many  other  hymns,  old  and  new, 
while  full  of  melody  and  rich  in  doctrine,  are  not 
adapted  to  the  public  devotions  of  the  sanctuary. 
But  Christian  readers  are  not  willing  to  permit  any 
of  these  heavenly  chords  to  cease  their  vibration. 
They  have  another  office  to  perform.  They  meet  a 
want  of  pious  hearts,  becoming  the  choice  compan- 
ions of  hours  of  meditation  and  prayer.  Volumes 
containing  these  unabridged  hymns  are  multiplying. 
They  are,  however,  generally  limited  in  their  subjects. 
Very  naturally,  hymns  of  patience,  consolation,  and 
of  heaven,  form  the  staple  of  these  compilations. 

The  present  volume  is  devoted  to  the  expression 
of  religious  desires  and  experiences  in  seeking  for 
the  highest  form  of  the  divine  life  upon  earth,  and 
of  the  consequent  activities  and  charities  to  which 
a  holy  heart,  pervaded  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,  will 
prompt  the  devout  believer. 


6  IN  TRODUC  TION. 

It  has  been  difficult  to  make  a  selection  from  the 
abundant  materials  near  at  hand.  The  writer  has 
sought  to  secure  as  wide  a  confession  as  possible 
of  the  glorious  faith  of  true  believers  in  their  one 
divine  Lord. 

He  has  selected  hymns  both  new  and  old,  most 
of  them  worthy  of  their  place  for  their  lyrical  excel- 
lence, and  all  of  them  for  the  truths  which  they 
embody.  He  has  desired,  while  seeking  to  pre- 
serve the  unity  of  the  work,  to  present  as  large  a 
variety  as  possible  in  the  measure  and  style  of  these 
"  spiritual  songs." 

He  trusts  the  pleasure  and  profit  which  has  at- 
tended their  selection  will  be  enjoyed  by  the  readers 
of  these  pages  ;  and  that  they  will  find  in  them  an 
aid  to  meet  the  inspired  exhortation,  to  teach  and 
admonish  "  one  another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and 
spiritual  songs,  singing  with  grace  in  your  hearts 
to  the  Lord." 

B.  K.  P. 
Riverside  Parsonage,  Randall's  Island. 


Thus,  while  I  drop  a  tenr  or  two 
On  the  wild  herd,  a  nobler  few 
Dare  to  stray  upward,  and  pursue 

The  unbeaten  way  to  God. 
They  soar  beyond  my  laboring  sight, 
And  leave  their  loads  of  mortal  care. 

But  not  their  love,  below  : 
On  heaven,  their  home,  they  fix  their  eyes. 

The  temple  of  their  God ; 
With  morning  incense  up  they  rise 
Sublime,  and  through  the  lower  skies 

Spread  the  perfumes  abroad. 

Watts. 


HYMNS 

OF 

THE    HIGHER    LIFE 


D 


"  Come  up  Hither." 

OWNWARD  through  the  still  air  falling, 
From  the  eternal  heights  above  me, 


Comes  a  voice  so  tender,  calling, 

"  Wilt  thou  not,  who  fearest,  love  me  ? 
Come  up  hither  ! 
I  who  died  for  thee 
All  thy  strength  will  be  : 
Come  up  hither  !  " 

Seems  the  voice  so  far  above  me, 

Yet  so  full  of  mercy  !     Teach  me. 
Thou  divine  One,  if  thou  love  me, 
How  in  blindness  I  may  reach  thee. 
All  this  dreary 
Path  which  leadeth  on 
Must  I  tread  alone,  — 
I,  so  wearv  ? 


TO  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

'■'■Dreary,  when  the  cross  doth  guide  thee. 

And  thou  know'st  its  wondrous  meaning  ? 
Weary,  when  I  walk  beside  thee, 
Thou  upon  my  bosom  leaning  ?* 
Alas  !  with  thee 
Have  I  dwelt  so  long. 
Still  thou  hast  not  known, 
Hast  not  known  me  ! 

"  Wouldst  thou  see  me.  thou  who  fearful 

Falterest  in  the  march  ?     Uplifting 
To  the  hills  thine  eyes,  not  tearful, 
Gird  thine  armor  on.     The  rifting 
Clouds  shall  show  thee 
Where  thy  path  doth  lead  : 
Ah  !  thy  weeping  hid 
Its  fair  glory  I 

"  For  the  faithful  and  victorious. 

Out  of  blindness,  wide  the  portal 
Openeth  into  light  how  glorious  ! 
Out  of  death  to  life  immortal  ! 
Come  up  hither  ! 
Fair  in  this  sweet  land 
The  many  mansions  stand  : 
Come  up  hither  I  " 

Mrs.  a.  B.  C.   Keenk. 


the  believer's  consecration.      ii 

The  Believer's  Consecration. 

MY  whole  though  broken  heart,  O  Lord  ! 
From  henceforth  shall  be  thine  ; 
And  here  I  do  my  vow  record,  — 

This  hand,  these  words,  are  mine  ; 
All  that  I  have,  without  reserve, 

I  offer  here  to  thee  : 
Thy  will  and  honor  all  shall  serve 
That  thou  bestow'dst  on  me. 

All  that  exceptions  save  I  lose  ; 

All  that  I  lose  I  save  : 
The  treasures  of  thy  love  1  choose, 

And  thou  art  all  I  crave. 
My  God,  thou  hast  my  heart  and  hand  ; 

I  all  to  thee  resign  : 
I'll  ever  to  this  covenant  stand, 

Though  flesh  hereat  repine. 

I  know  that  thou  wast  willing  first, 

And  then  drew  my  consent : 
Having  thus  loved  me  at  the  worst, 

Thou  wilt  not  now  repent. 
Now  I  have  quit  all  self-pretence, 

Take  charge  of  what's  thine  own  : 
My  life,  my  health,  and  my  defence, 

Now  lie  on  thee  alone. 


12  //i'A/A'S   OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Lord,  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 

Whether  I  die  or  hve  : 
To  love  and  serve  thee  is  my  share, 

And  this  thy  grace  must  give. 
If  life  be  long,  I  will  be  glad. 

That  I  may  long  obey  ; 
If  short,  yet  why  should  I  be  sad, 

That  shall  have  the  same  pay  .'* 

Christ  leads  me  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  he  v>-ent  through  before  : 
He  that  into  God"s  kingdom  comes 

Must  enter  by  this  door. 
Come,  Lord,  when  grace  hath  made  me  meet 
.     Thy  blessed  face  to  see  ; 
For  if  thy  work  on  earth  be  sweet 

What  will  thy  glory  be  ? 

Then  I  shall  end  my  sad  complaints 

And  weary  sinful  days, 
And  join  with  the  triumphant  saints 

That  sing  Jehovah's  praise. 
My  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small  ; 

The  eye  of  faith  is  dim  : 
But  'tis  enough  that  Christ  knows  all. 

And  I  shall  be  with  him. 

Richard  Baxter. 


THE  SONG  OF   THE  ANGELS  ABOVE. 


13 


The  Song  of  the  Angels  above. 

EARTH  has  detained  me  prisoner  lon^, 
And  I'm  grown  weary  now  : 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 
There's  nothing  here  for  you. 

Tired  in  my  thoughts,  I  stretch  me  down, 
And  upward  glance  mine  eyes,  — 

Upward,  my  Father,  to  thy  throne, 
And  to  my  native  skies.  ' 

There  the  dear  Man,  my  Saviour,  sits  ; 

The  God,  how  bright  he  shines  ! 
And  scatters  infinite  delights 

On  all  the  happy  minds. 

Seraphs  with  elevated  strain 

Circle  the  throne  around, 
And  move  and  charm  the  starry  plains 

With  an  immortal  sound. 

Jesus,  the  Lord,  their  harps  employs  ; 

Jesus,  my  love,  they  sing  ; 
Jesus,  the  name  of  both  our  joys. 

Sounds  sweet  from  every  string. 


14  HYMNS  OF  THE    HIGHER   LIFE. 

Hark  !  how  beyond  the  narrow  bounds 

Of  time  and  space  they  run, 
And  speak,  in  most  majestic  sounds, 

The  Godhead  of  the  Son  !  — 

How  on  the  Father's  breast  he  lay, 

The  darhng  of  his  soul, 
Infinite  years  before  the  day 

Or  heavens  began  to  roll. 

And  now  they  sink  the  lofty  tone, 
And  gentler  notes  they  play, 

And  bring  the  eternal  Godhead  down 
To  dwell  in  humble  clay. 

Oh  sacred  beauties  of  the  JVIan  ! 

(The  God  resides  within,) 
His  flesh  all  pure  without  a  stain, 

His  soul  without  a  sin. 

Then  how  he  looked,  and  how  he  smiled, 
What  wondrous  things  he  said : 

Sweet  cherubs,  stay,  dwell  here  a  while. 
And  tell  what  Jesus  did. 

At  his  command  the  blind  awake. 
And  feel  the  gladsome  rays  : 

He  bids  the  dumb  attempt  to  speak  ; 
They  try  their  tongues  in  praise. 


THE   SONG  OF   THE   ANGELS  ABOVE.       15 

He  shed  a  thousand  blessings  round 

Where'er  he  turned  his  eye  ; 
He  spoke,  and  at  the  sovereign  sound 

The  helhsh  legions  fly. 

Thus,  while  with  unambitious  strife 

The  ethereal  minstrels  rove 
Through  all  the  labors  of  his  life 

And  wonders  of  his  love, 

In  the  full  choir  a  broken  string 
Groans  with  a  strange  surprise  : 

The  rest  in  silence  mourn  their  King, 
That  bleeds  and  loves  and  dies. 

Seraph  and  saint,  with  drooping  wings, 

Cease  their  harmonious  breath  : 
No  blooming  trees  nor  bubbling  springs 

While  Jesus  sleeps  in  death. 

Then  all  at  once  to  hving  strains 

They  summon  every  chord. 
Break  up  the  tomb,  and  burst  his  chains, 

And  show  their  rising  Lord. 

Around  the  flaming  army  throngs 

To  guard  him  to  the  skies, 
With  loud  hosannas  on  their  tongues, 

And  triumph  in  their  eyes. 


1 6  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

In  awful  state  the  conquering  God 
Ascends  his  shining  throne, 

While  tuneful  angels  sound  abroad 
The  victories  he  has  won. 

Now  let  me  rise,  and  join  their  song, 

And  be  an  angel  too  : 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 

Here's  joyful  work  for  you. 

1  would  begin  the  music  here  ; 

And  so  my  soul  should  rise  : 
Oh  for  some  heavenly  notes  to  bear 

My  spirit  to  the  skies  ! 

There  ye  that  love  my  Saviour  sit ; 

There  I  would  fain  have  place, 
Amongst  your  thrones  or  at  your  feet, 

So  I  might  see  his  face. 

1  am  confined  to  earth  no  more, 

But  mount  in  haste  above. 
To  bless  the  God  that  I  adore, 

And  sing  the  Man  I  love. 

Isaac  Watts. 


I 


looking  to  the  cross. 

Looking  to  the  Cross. 

N  weariness  and  pain, 
By  griefs  and  sins  opprest, 


My  soul's  eternal  Rest,  — 
The  Lamb  that  died  for  me. 
And  still  my  load  doth  bear  : 
To  Jesus'  streaming  wounds  I  flee, 
And  tind  my  quiet  there. 

Jesus,  was  ever  grief, 

Was  ever  love,  like  thine  .'' 
Thy  sorrow.  Lord,  is  my  rehef ; 

Thy  life  hath  ransomed  mine. 

The  Crucified  appears  I 

I  see  the  dying  God  I 
Oh,  might  I  pour  my  ceaseless  tears. 

And  mix  them  with  thy  blood  ! 

My  sorrows  I  forget 

In  view  of  Calvary: 
1  fall,  and  kiss  thy  bleeding  feet, 

And  pant  to  share  with  thee. 

Oh,  were  I  offered  up 

Upon  thy  sacrifice  ! 
Who  would  not  drink  the  sacred  cup, 

And  die  when  Jesus  dies  ? 


l8            HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE.  \ 

Thou  seest  my  heart's  desire  :  \ 

I  would  thy  cross  partake  ;  ; 

I  long  to  be  baptized  with  fire,  ' 
And  die  for  thy  dear  sake  ; 

I  long  to  rise  with  thee,  \ 

And  soar  to  things  above,  I 

And  spend  a  blest  eternity  j 

In  praise  of  dying  love.  j 

Charles  Wesley.  j 

i 


Toiling  all  the  Night. 

'"TpHE  livelong  night  we've  toiled  in  vain 

-L       But  at  thy  gracious  word 
I  will  let  down  the  net  again  : 

Do  thou  thy  will,  O  Lord  !  " 

So  spake  the  weary  fisher,  spent 

With  bootless,  darkling  toil. 
Yet  on  his  Master's  bidding  bent 

For  love,  and  not  for  spoil. 

So,  day  by  day,  and  week  by  week, 

In  sad  and  weary  thought, 
They  muse  whom  God  hath  set  to  seek 

The  souls  his  Christ  hath  bouirht. 


TOILING  ALL    THE   NIGHT.  19 

For  not  upon  a  tranquil  lake  ; 

Our  pleasant  task  we  ply,  \ 

Where  all  along  our  glistening  wake  1 

The  softest  moonbeams  lie  ;  ; 

Where  rippling  wave  and  dashing  oar  i 

Our  midnight  chant  attend, 
Or  whispering  palm-leaves  from  the  shore 

With  midnight  silence  blend. 

Sweet  thoughts  of  peace,  ye  may  not  last : 

Too  soon  some  ruder  sound 
Calls  us  from  where  ye  soar  so  fast 

Back  to  our  earthly  round. 

1 
For  wildest  storms  our  ocean  sweep :  ' 

No  anchor  but  the  Cross 

Might  hold  ;  and  oft  the  thankless  deep  ; 

Turns  all  our  toil  to  loss. 

Full  many  a  dreary,  anxious  hour  ! 

We  watch  our  nets  alone, 
In  drenching  spray  and  driving  shower, 

And  hear  the  night-bird's  moan.  \ 

At  morn  we  look,  and  nought  is  there  ; 

Sad  dawn  of  cheerless  day  !  ' 

Who,  then,  from  pining  and  despair 

The  sickening  heart  can  stay  t  .<; 


0  HYMNS  OF    THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

There  is  a  stay,  and  we  are  strong  : 

Our  Master  is  at  iiand 
To  cheer  our  soHtary  song, 

And  guide  us  to  the  strand, 

In  his  own  time.     But  yet  awhile 

Our  bark  at  sea  must  ride  ; 
Cast  after  cast,  by  force  or  guile, 

All  waters  must  be  tried  ; 

By  blameless  guile  or  gentle  force, 
As  when  he  deigned  to  teach 

(The  lone-slar  of  our  Christian  course) 
Upon  this  sacred  beach. 

Should  e'er  thy  wonder-working  grace 

Triumph  by  our  weak  arm. 
Let  not  our  sinful  fancy  trace 

Aught  human  in  the  charm. 

To  our  own  nets  ne'er  bow  we  down, 

Lest  on  the  eternal  shore 
The  angels,  while  our  draught  they  own, 

Reject  us  evermore. 

Or  if,  for  our  unworthiness, 

Toil,  prayer,  and  watching  fail. 

In  disappointment  thou  canst  bless, 

So  love  at  heart  prevail. 

John  Keble. 


divine  adoption. 

Divine  Adoption. 

HOW  happy  are  the  new-born  race, 
Partakers  of  adopting  grace  ! 
How  pure  the  bhss  they  share  ! 
Hid  from  the  world  and  all  its  eyes, 
Within  their  heart  the  blessing  lies, 
And  conscience  feels  it  there. 

The  moment  we  believe,  'tis  ours  ; 
And  if  we  love  with  all  our  powers 

The  God  from  whom  it  came, 
And  if  we  serve  with  hearts  sincere, 
'Tis  still  discernible  and  clear,  — 

An  undisputed  claim. 

But,  ah  !  if  foul  and  wilful  sin 
Stain  and  dishonor  us  within, 

Farewell  the  joy  we  knew  ! 
Again  the  slaves  of  Nature's  sway, 
In  labyrinths  of  our  own  we  stray. 

Without  a  guide  or  clew. 

The  chaste  and  pure,  who  fear  to  grieve 
The  gracious  Spirit  they  receive. 

His  work  distinctly  trace. 
And,  strong  in  undissembling  love, 
Boldly  assert  and  clearly  prove- 

Their  hearts  his  dwelling-place. 


2  2  HYMNS  OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

O  Messenger  of  dear  delight, 

Whose  voice  dispels  the  deepest  night, 

Sweet  peace-proclaiming  Dove  ! 
With  thee  at  hand  to  soothe  our  pains, 
No  wish  unsatisfied  remains, 

No  task  but  that  of  love. 

'Tis  love  unites  what  sin  divides  ; 
The  centre  where  all  bliss  resides  ; 

To  which  the  soul  once  brought, 
Reclining  on  the  first  great  Cause, 
From  his  abounding  sweetness  draws 

Peace  passing  human  thought. 

Sorrow  foregoes  its  nature  there  ; 
And  life  assumes  a  tranquil  air. 

Divested  of  its  woes  ; 
There  sovereign  goodness  soothes  the  breast, 
Till  then  incapable  of  rest. 

In  sacred,  sure  repose. 

Madame  Guyon. 


The  Method. 

POOR  heart,  lament ; 
For  since  thy  God  refuseth  still, 
There  is  some  rub,  some  discontent. 
Which  cools  his  will. 


THE  METHOD. 

Thy  Father  could 
Quickly  effect  what  thou  dost  move  ; 
For  he  is  power :  and  sure  he  would  ; 

For  he  is  love. 

Go  search  this  thing, 
Tumble  thy  breast,  and  turn  thy  book  : 
If  thou  hadst  lost  a  glove  or  ring, 

Wouldst  thou  not  look  ? 

What  do  I  see 
Written  above  there  ?     Yesterday 
I  did  behave  me  carelessly 

When  I  did  pray. 

And  should  God's  ear 
To  such  indiflferents  chained  be, 
Who  do  not  their  ow^n  motions  hear  ? 

Is  God  less  free  ? 

But  stay  !  what's  there  ? 
Late,  when  I  would  have  something  done, 
I  had  a  motion  to  forbear, 

Yet  I  w^ent  on. 

And  should  God's  ear, 
Which  needs  not  man,  be  tied  to  those 
Who  hear  not  him,  but  quickly  hear 

His  utter  foes  ? 


23 


2  4  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Then  once  more  pray  ; 
Down  with  thy  knees,  up  with  thy  voice 
Seek  pardon  first,  and  God  will  say, 

"  Glad  heart,  rejoice." 

George  Herbert. 


Prisoners  of  Hope. 

PRISONERS  of  hope,  lift  up  your  heads  ; 
The  day  of  liberty  draws  near : 
Jesus,  who  on  the  Serpent  treads, 

Shall  soon  in  your  behalf  appear. 
The  Lord  will  to  his  temple  come  : 
Prepare  your  hearts  to  make  him  room. 

Ye  all  shall  find,  whom  in  his  word 

Himself  hath  caused  to  put  your  trust, 

The  Father  of  our  dying  Lord 
Is  ever  to  his  promise  just ; 

Faithful,  if  we  our  sins  confess. 

To  cleanse  from  all  unrighteousness. 

Yes,  Lord,  we  must  believe  thee  kind ; 

Thou  never  canst  unfaithful  prove  : 
Surely  we  shall  thy  mercy  find  ; 

Who  ask  shall  all  receive  thy  love. 


PRISONERS   OF  HOPE. 


25 


Nor  canst  thou  it  to  me  deny  ; 
I  ask,  the  chief  of  sinners  I. 

O  ye  of  fearful  hearts  !  be  strong ; 

Your  downcast  eyes  and  hands  hft  up  ; 
Ye  shall  not  be  forgotten  long  : 

Hope  to  the  end  ;  in  Jesus  hope  : 
Tell  him  ye  wait  his  grace  to  prove; 
And  cannot  fail,  if  God  is  love. 

Prisoners  of  hope,  be  strong,  be  bold  ; 

Cast  off  your  doubts  ;  disdain  to  fear  ; 
Dare  to  believe  ;  on  Christ  lay  hold  ; 

Wrestle  with  Christ  in  mighty  prayer ; 
Tell  him,  "  We  will  not  let  thee  go 
Till  we  thy  name,  thy  nature,  know." 

Hast  thou  not  died  to  purge  our  sin, 
And  risen  thy  death  for  us  to  plead  ; 

To  write  thy  law  of  love  within 

Our  hearts,  and  make  us  free  indeed  ? 

That  we  our  Eden  might  regain 

Thou  diedst,  and  couldst  not  die  in  vain. 

Lord,  we  believe,  and  wait  the  hour 
Which  all  thy  great  salvation  brings  : 

The  Spirit  of  love  and  health  and  power 
Shall  come,  and  make  us  priests  and  kings 


2  6  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Thou  wilt  perform  thy  faithful  word, — 
"  The  servant  shall  be  as  his  Lord." 

The  promise  stands  forever  sure, 
And  we  shall  in  thine  image  shine, 

Partakers  of  a  nature  pure, 
Holy,  angelical,  divine  ; 

In  spirit  joined  to  thee,  the  Son, 

As  thou  art  with  thy  Father  one. 

Faithful  and  true,  we  now  receive  . 

The  promise  ratified  by  thee  : 
To  thee  the  when  and  how  w'e  leave, 

In  time  and  in  eternity ; 
We  only  hang  upon  thy  word,  — 
'•  The  servant  shall  be  as  his  Lord." 

Charles  Wesley. 


Peace.  i 

SWEET  Peace,  where  dost  thou  dwell  ;     I  ■ 

humbly  crave. 

Let  me  once  know. 
I  sought  thee  in  a  secret  cave, 
And  asked  if  Peace  were  there.  i 

A  hollow  wind  did  seem  to  answer,  "  No  :  ; 

Go  seek  elsewhere."  j 


PEACE.  27 

I  did,  and,  going,  did  a  rainbow  note  : 
"  Surely,"  thought  I, 
"This  is  the  lace  of  Peace's  coat ; 
I  will  search  out  the  matter :  " 
But,  while  I  looked,  the  clouds  immediately 
Did  break  and  scatter. 

Then  went  I  to  a  garden,  and  did  spy 
A  gallant  flower,  — 
The  crown  imperial.     "  Sure,"  said  I, 
"  Peace  at  the  root  must  dwell ;  " 
But,  when  1  digged,  I  saw  a  w^orm  devour 
What  showed  so  well. 

At  length  I  met  a  reverend  good  old  man, 
Whom  when  for  Peace 
I  did  demand,  he  thus  began  : 
"  There  was  a  Prince  of  old 
At  Salem  dwelt,  who  lived  with  good  increase 
Of  flock  and  fold. 

"  He  sweetly  Hved :  yet  sweetness  did  not  save 
His  life  from  foes  ; 
But,  after  death,  out  of  his  grave 

There  sprang  twelve  stalks  of  wheat ; 
Which  many,  wondering  at,  got  some  of  those 
To  plant  and  set. 


2  8  HVMXS   OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE.  '. 

"It  prospered  strangely,  and  did  soon  disperse  | 

Through  all  the  earth  ;  \ 

For  they  that  taste  it  do  rehearse  \ 

That  virtues  lie  therein,  —  i 

A  secret  virtue,  bringing  peace  and  mirth 

By  flight  of  sin. 

'•Take  of  this  grain,  which  in  my  garden  grows,  i 

And  grows  for  you  ;  i 

Make  bread  of  it,  and  then  repose  ;  i 

And  Peace,  which  everywhere 

With  so  much  earnestness  you  do  pursue,  ; 

Is  only  there."  ] 

George  Herbert.  i 


The  Indwelling  Spirit. 

GRACIOUS  Spirit,  dwell  with  me 
I  myself  would  gracious  be. 
And  with  words  that  help  and  heal 
Would  thy  life  in  mine  reveal. 
And  with  actions  bold  and  meek 
Would  for  Christ,  my  Saviour,  speak. 

Truthful  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  : 
I  myself  would  truthful  be. 


THE  INDWELLING  SPIRIT. 

And  with  wisdom  kind  and  clear 
Let  thy  h'fe  in  mine  appear, 
And  with  actions  brotherly 
Speak  my  Lord's  sincerity. 

Tender  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  : 
I  myself  would  tender  be  ; 
Shut  my  heart  up  like  a  flower 
At  temptation's  darksome  hour  ; 
Open  it  when  shines  the  sun, 
And  his  love  by  fragrance  own. 

Silent  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  : 

I  myself  would  quiet  be,  — 

Quiet  as  the  growing  blade 

Which  through  earth  its  way  has  made 

Silently  like  morning  light. 

Putting  mists  and  chills  to  flight. 

Mighty  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  : 
I  myself  would  mighty  be, — 
Mighty,  so  as  to  prevail 
Where  unaided  man  must  fail ; 
Ever,  by  a  mighty  hope, 
Pressing  on  and  bearing  up. 

Holy  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  : 
I  myself  would  holy  be  ; 


29 


30  HYMNS  OF    THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

Separate  from  sin,  I  would 
Choose  and  cherish  all  things  good, 
And,  whatever  I  can  be. 
Give  to  Him  who  gave  me  thee. 

Thomas  Toke  Lynch. 


I  AM  His,  and  He  is  Mine. 

LONG  did  I  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest  ; 
Far  did  I  rove,  and  found  no  certain  home  : 
At  last  I  sought  them  in  His  sheltering  breast 

Who  opes  His  arms,  and  bids  the  weary  come  : 
With  Him  I  found  a  home,  a  rest  divine  ; 
And  I  since  then  am  His,  and  He  is  mine. 

Yes,  He  is  mine  ;  and  nought  of  earthly  things, 
Not  all  the  charms  of  pleasure,  wealth,  or 
power. 
The  fame  of  heroes,  or  the  pomp  of  kings, 

Could  tempt  me  to  forego  His  love  an  hour. 
'•Go,  worthless  world,"  I  cr}^,  "with  all  that's 

thine  ! 
Go !     I  my  Saviour's  am,  and  he  is  mine." 

The  good  I  have  is  from  his  stores  supplied  ; 
The  ill  is  onlv  what  he  deems  the  best : 


I  AM  HIS,    AND  HE   IS  MINE. 


31 


He  for  my  friend,  I'm  rich  with  nought  beside  ; 
And   poor  without   him,  though   of  all   pos- 
sessed. 
Changes  may  come  ;   I  take  or  I  resign  ; 
Content  while  I  am  his,  while  he  is  mine. 

Whate'er   may  change,  in    him    no    change    is 
seen  ; 

A  glorious  Sun,  that  wanes  not  nor  declines  : 
Above  the  clouds  and  storms  he  walks  serene, 

And  sweetly  on  his  people's  darkness  shines. 
All  may  depart :   I  fret  not,  nor  repine. 
While  I  my  Saviour's  am,  while  he  is  mine. 

He  stays  me  falling,  lifts  me  up  when  down. 
Reclaims   me  wandering,  guards  iVom  every 
foe  ; 

Plants  on  my  worthless  brow  the  victor's  crown. 
Which,  in  return,  before  his  feet  I  throw, 

Grieved  that  I  cannot  better  grace  his  shrine, 

Who  deigns  to  own  me  his,  as  he  is  mine. 

While  here,  alas  !   I  know  but  half  his  love, 
But  half  discern  him,  and  but  half  adore  ; 

But,  when  I  meet  him  in  the  realms  above, 
I  hope  to  love  him  better,  praise  him  more, 

And  feel  and  tell,  amid  the  choir  divine, 

How  fully  I  am  his,  and  he  is  mine. 

Henry  Francis  Lyte. 


32         hymns  of  the  higher  life. 

The  Soul's  Surrender. 

OH  happy  clay  that  fixed  my  choice 
On  thee,  my  Saviour  and  my  God  ! 
Well  may  this  glowing  heart  rejoice, 
And  tell  its  raptures  all  abroad. 

Oh  happy  bond  that  seals  my  vows 
To  Him  who  merits  all  my  love  ! 

Let  cheerful  anthems  fill  his  house 
While  to  that  sacred  shrine  I  move. 

'Tis  done  !  — the  great  transaction's  done  ! 

I  am  my  Lord's,  and  he  is  mine  : 
He  drew  me,  and  I  followed  on. 

Charmed  to  confess  the  voice  divine. 

Now  rest,  my  long-divided  heart ; 

Fixed  on  this  blissful  centre,  rest : 
With  ashes  who  would  grudge  to  part, 

When  called  on  angels'  bread  to  feast  ? 

High  Heaven,  that  heard  the  solemn  vow, 
That  vow  renewed  shall  daily  hear, 

Till  in  life's  latest  hour  I  bow, 

And  bless  in  death  a  bond  so  dear. 

Philip  Doddkidge. 


WHAT  THEN? 


What  Then? 


ZZ 


AFTER  the  Christian's  tears, 
After  his  fights  and  fears, 
After  his  weary  cross,  — 
"All  things  below  but  loss,"  — 
What  then  ? 

Oh  !  then,  a  holy  calm. 
Resting  on  Jesus"  arm  ; 
Oh  !  then,  a  deeper  love 
For  the  pure  home  above. 

After  this  holy  calm. 
This  rest  on  Jesus'  arm  ; 
After  this  deepened  love 
For  the  pure  home  above, — 
What  then  ? 

Oh  I  then,  a  work  for  him, 
Perishing  souls  to  win  ; 
Then  Jesus'  presence  near. 
Death's  darkest  hour  to  cheer. 

And  when  the  work  is  done, 
When  the  last  soul  is  won. 
When  Jesus'  love  and  power 
Have  cheered  the  dying  hour. 
What  then  ? 

3 


34 


HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Oh  !  then,  the  crown  is  given  ; 
Oh  !  then,  the  rest  in  heaven  ; 
Endless  hfe  in  endless  day ; 
Sin  and  sorrow  passed  away. 

'  E.J. 


Bring  the  Childrex  with  You. 

"  'T^HE  Master  has  come  over  Jordan," 

J-     Said  Hannah,  the  mother,  one  day  : 
"  He  is  healing  the  people  who  throng  him, 

With  a  touch  of  his  finger,  they  say. 
And  now  I  shall  carry  the  children. 

Little  Rachel  and  Samuel  and  John  ; 
I  shall  carry  the  baby,  Esther, 

For  the  Lord  to  look  upon." 

The  father  looked  at  her  kindly  ; 

But  he  shook  his  head,  and  smiled  : 
"  Now,  who  but  a  doting  mother 

Would  think  of  a  thing  so  wild  ? 
If  the  children  were  tortured  by  demons, 

Or  dying  of  fever,  'twere  well ; 
Or  had  they  the  taint  of  the  leper, 

Like  manv  in  Israel  "  — 


BRING  THE  CHILDREN  WITH  YOU.         3^ 

"  Nay,  do  not  hinder  me,  Nathan  ;  ; 

I  feel  such  a  burden  of  care  : 
If  I  carry  it  to  the  Master,  I 

Perhaps  I  shall  leave  it  there.  \ 

If  he  lay  his  hands  on  the  children,  i 

My  heart  will  be  lighter,  I  know  ;  . 

For  a  blessing  for  ever  and  ever  ; 

Will  follow  them  as  they  go."  ] 

So,  over  the  hills  of  Judah,  j 

Along  the  vine-rows  green,  j| 

With  Esther  asleep  on  her  bosom,  '^- 

And  Rachel  her  brothers  between, 
'Mong  the  people  who  hung  on  his  teaching, 

Or  waited  his  touch  and  his  word,  \ 

Through  the  row  of  proud  Pharisees  hastening,  1 

She  pressed  to  the  feet  of  the  Lord. 


"  Now,  why  shouldst  thou  hinder  the  Master," 

Said  Peter,  "with  children  like  these  ? 
Seest  not  how,  from  morning  till  evening. 

He  teacheth,  and  healeth  disease  ? " 
Then  Christ  said,  "  Forbid  not  the  children  ; 

Permit  them  to  come  unto  me  :  " 
And  he  took  in  his  arms  little  Esther, 

And  Rachel  he  set  on  his  knee. 


^6  HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

And  the  heavy  heart  of  the  mother 

Was  lifted  all  earth-care  above, 
As  he  laid  his  hands  on  the  brothers, 

And  blessed  them  with  tenderest  love  ; 
As  he  said  of  the  babes  in  his  bosom, 

"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  " 
And  strength  for  all  duty  and  trial 

That  hour  to  her  spirit  was  given. 

Julia  Gill. 


My  Saviour. 

I    AM  not  skilled  to  understand 
What   God   hath   willed,   what   God   hath 
planned  : 
I  only  know,  at  his  right  hand 

Stands  One  who  is  my  Saviour. 

'I  take  God  at  his  w^ord  and  deed  : 
"  Christ  died  to  save  me,"  —  this  I  read  ; 
And  in  my  heart  I  find  a  need 
Of  him  to  be  my  Saviour. 

And  had  there  been,  in  all  this  wide, 
Sad  world,  no  other  soul  beside. 
But  only  mine,  yet  he  had  died 
That  he  micrht  be  its  Saviour. 


COME    UNTO  ME. 

One  wounded  spirit  sore  opprest, 
One  wearied  soul  that  found  no  rest 
Until  it  found  it  on  the  breast 

Of  him  that  was  its  Saviour,  — 

Then  had  he  left  his  Father's  throne, 
The  joy  untold,  the  love  unknown, 
And  for  that  soul  had  given  his  own, 
That  he  might  be  its  Saviour. 

And  oh  that  he  fulfilled  may  see 
The  travail  of  his  soul  in  me, 
And  with  his  work  contented  be 
As  I  with  my  dear  Saviour ! 

Yea,  living,  dying,  let  me  bring 
My  strength,  my  solace,  from  this  spring, 
That  lie,  who  lives  to  be  my  King, 
Once  died  to  be  my  Saviour. 

Dora  Greexwell. 


Come  unto  Me. 

ART  thou  weary  t     Art  thou  languid  .'' 
Art  thou  sore  distrest  ? 
"  Come  to  me,"  saith  One,  "  and,  coming, 
Be  at  rest." 


37 


38 


HYMNS  OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Hath  he  marks  to  lead  me  to  him, 

If  he  be  my  Guide  ? 
"  In  his  feet  and  hands  are  wound-prints, 
And  his  side." 

Is  there  diadem  as  monarch 
That  his  brow  adorns  ? 
"  Yes,  a  crown  in  very  surety, 
But  of  thorns." 

If  I  find  him,  if  I  follow. 

What  his  guerdon  here  1 
"  Many  a  sorrow,  many  a  labor, 
Many  a  tear." 

If  I  still  hold  closely  to  him. 

What  hath  he  at  last  ? 
"  Sorrow  vanquished,  labor  ended, 
Jordan  passed." 

If  I  ask  him  to  receive  me, 

Will  he  say  me  nay  ? 
"  Not  till  earth,  and  not  till  heaven. 
Pass  away." 

Tending,  following,  keeping,  struggling, 

Is  he  sure  to  bless  } 
"Angels,  martyrs,  prophets,  pilgrims. 
Answer,  Yes." 

From  St.  Stephen. 


FRA  YER. 


Prayer. 


39 


OF  what  an  easy,  quick  access, 
My  blessed  Lord,  art  thou  !  how  suddenly 
May  our  requests  thine  ear  invade  ! 
To  show  that  state  dislikes  not  easiness, 
If  I  but  lift  mine  eyes,  my  suit  is  made  : 
Thou  canst  no  more  not  hear  than  thou  canst  die. 

Of  what  supreme,  almighty  power 
Is  thy  great  arm,  which  spans  the  east  and  west, 

And  tacks  the  centre  to  the  sphere  1 
By  it  do  all  things  live  their  measured  hour  : 
We  cannot  ask  the  thing  which  is  not  there, 
Blaming  the  shallowness  of  our  request. 

Of  what  unmeasurable  love 
Art  thou  possessed,  who,  when  thou  couldst  not 
die, 

Wert  fain  to  take  our  flesh  and  curse, 
And  for  our  sakes  in  person  sin  reprove. 
That,  by  destroying  that  which  tied  thy  purse, 
Thou  mightst  make  way  for  liberality  ! 

Since,  then,  these  three  wait  on  thy  throne, — 
Ease,  Power,  and  Love,  —  I  value  prayer  so. 

That  were  I  to  leave  all  but  one. 
Wealth,  fame,  endowments,  virtues,  all  should  go ; 


40 


HYMNS  OF  THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


1  ana  dear  Prayer  would  together  dwell, 
And  quickly  gain,  for  each  inch  lost,  an  ell. 

George  Herbert. 


Pentecost, 

WHEN  God  of  old  came  down  from  heaven, 
In  power  and  wrath  he  came  :  i 

Before  his  feet  the  clouds  were  riven, 
Half  darkness  and  half  flame. 

Around  the  trembling  mountain's  base  j 

The  prostrate  people  lay  :  ! 

A  day  of  wrath,  and  not  of  grace  ; 
A  dim  and  dreadful  day. 

But,  when  he  came  the  second  time,  ■ 

He  came  in  power  and  love  : 
Softer  than  gale  at  morning  prime 

Hovered  his  holy  Dove. 

The  fires  that  rushed  on  Sinai  down,  , 

In  sudden  torrents  dread,  \ 

Now  gently  light,  a  glorious  crown, 
On  every  sainted  head. 


PENTECOST. 

Like  arrows  went  those  lightnings  forth, 
Winged  with  the  sinner's  doom  ; 

But  these  Hke  tongues,  o'er  all  the  earth 
Proclaiming  life  to  come. 

And  as  on  Israel's  awe-struck  ear 

The  voice  exceeding  loud, 
The  trump  that  angels  quake  to  hear, 

Thrilled  from  the  deep,  dark  cloud  ; 

So,  when  the  Spirit  of  our  God 

Came  down  his  flock  to  find, 
A  voice  from  heaven  was  heard  abroad^  — 

A  rushing,  mighty  wind. 

Nor  doth  the  outward  ear  alone 

At  that  high  warning  start : 
Conscience  gives  back  the  appalling  tone 

'Tis  echoed  in  the  heart. 

It  fills  the  Church  of  God  ;  it  fills 

The  sinful  world  around  : 
Only  in  stubborn  hearts  and  wills 

No  place  for  it  is  found. 

To  other  strains  our  souls  are  set : 

A  giddy  whirl  of  sin 
Fills  ear  and  brain,  and  will  not  let 

Heaven's  harmonies  come  in. 


41 


42  HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Come  Lord,  come  Wisdom,  Love,  and  Power, 

Open  our  ears  to  hear ; 
Let  us  not  miss  the  accepted  hour  ; 

Save,  Lord,  by  love  or  fear. 

John  Keble. 


Create  in  IMe  a  Cleax  Heart.  —  Ps.  li. 

GOD  of  unfatliomable  love, 
Whose  bowels  of  compassion  move 
Towards  Adam's  helpless  race  : 
See,  at  thy  feet,  a  sinner  see  ; 
In  tender  mercy  look  on  me. 
And  all  my  sins  efface. 

Oh  I  let  thy  love  to  me  overflow, 
Thy  multitude  of  mercies  show, 

Abundantly  forgive  ; 
Remove  the  insufferable  load. 
Blot  out  my  sins  with  sacred  blood, 

And  bid  the  sinner  live. 

Take  all  the  power  of  sin  away, 
Nor  let  in  me  its  being  stay  ; 

Mine  inmost  soul  convert ; 
Wash  me  from  all  the  filth  of  sin  : 
Come,  Lord,  and  make  me  throughly  clean  ; 

Create  me  pure  in  heart. 


CREATE  IN  ME  A    CLEAN  HEART. 

For  all  my  sins  1  now  confess, 
Bewail  my  desperate  wickedness, 

And  sue  to  be  forgiven  : 
I  have  abused  thy  patient  grace, 
1  have  provoked  thee  to  thy  face, 

And  dared  the  wrath  of  Heaven. 

Thee,  only  thee,  have  I  defied : 
Though  all  thy  wrath  on  me  abide, 

And  my  damnation  seal. 
Though  into  outer  darkness  thrust, 
I'll  own  the  punishment  is  just, 

And  clear  my  God  in  hell. 

Cast  in  the  mould  of  sin  I  am, 
Corrupt  throughout  my  ruined  frame. 

My  essence  all  unclean  : 
My  total  fall  from  God  I  mourn  ; 
In  sin  I  was  conceived  and  born  ; 

Whate'er  I  am  is  sin. 

But  thou  requirest  all  our  hearts, 
Truth  rooted  in  the  inward  parts, 

Unspotted  purity  ; 
And,  by  thy  grace,  I  humbly  trust 
To  learn  the  wisdom  of  the  just. 

In  secret  taught  by  thee. 


43 


44  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Surely  thou  wilt  thy  grace  impart, 
Sprinkle  the  blood  upon  my  heart 

Which  did  for  sinners  flow,  — 
The  blood  that  purges  every  sin  ; 
The  blood  that  soon  shall  wash  me  clean, 

And  make  me  white  as  snow. 

Thou  wilt  the  mournful  spirit  cheer, 
And  grant  me  once  again  to  hear 

Thy  sweet  forgiving  voice  ; 
That  all  my  bones  and  inmost  soul, 
Broken  by  thee,  by  thee  made  whole, 

May  in  thy  strength  rejoice. 

From  my  misdeeds  avert  thy  face  ; 

The  strength  of  sin,  by  pardoning  grace, 

Of  all  my  sin,  remove  : 
Forgive,  O  Lord  !  but  change  me  too, 
And  perfectly  my  soul  renew 

By  sanctifying  love. 

My  wretchedness  to  thee  convert ; 
Give  me  a  humble,  contrite  heart ; 

My  fallen  soul  restore  ; 
Let  me  the  life  divine  attain. 
The  image  of  my  God  regain, 

And  never  lose  it  more. 


CREATE   IN  ME  A    CLEAN  HEART. 

Have  patience,  till,  by  thee  renewed, 
I  live  the  sinless  life  of  God. 

Here  let  thy  Spirit  stay  : 
Though  I  have  grieved  the  gentle  Dove, 
Ah  !  do  not  quite  withdraw  thy  love, 

Or  take  thy  grace  away. 

The  comfort  of  thy  help  restore  ; 
Assist  me  now  as  heretofore  ; 

Oh  I   lift  thou  up  my  head  ; 
The  Spirit  of  thy  power  impart  ; 
Stablish  and  keep  my  faithful  heart, 

And  make  me  free  indeed. 

Then  shall  I  teach  the  world  thy  ways, 
Thy  mercy  mild,  thy  pardoning  grace, 

For  every  sinner  free  ; 
Till  sinners  to  thy  grace  submit, 
And  fall  at  their  Redeemer's  feet. 

And  weep  and  love  like  me. 

Oh  !  might  I  weep  and  love  thee  now, 
God  of  my  health,  my  Saviour  thou  ! 

Thou  only  canst  release 
My  soul  from  all  iniquity  : 
Oh  !  speak  the  word,  and  set  me  free, 

And  bid  me  go  in  peace. 


45 


46  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

So  shall  I  sing  the  Saviour's  name, 
Thy  gift  of  righteousness  proclaim, 

Thine  all-redeeming  grace  : 
Open  my  lips,  Almighty  Lord, 
That  I  thy  mercy  may  record, 

And  glory  in  thy  praise. 

No  creature-good  dost  thou  desire, 
No  costly  sacrifice  require  ; 

Thy  pleasure  is  to  give  : 
Thou  only  seekest  me,  not  mine  ; 
Thou  wouldst  that  I  should  take  of  thine, 

Should  all  thy  grace  receive. 

A  spirit  wounded,  sin-distrest, 

A  broken  heart  that  pants  for  rest,  — 

This  is  the  sacrifice 
Well  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God  : 
A  sinner  crushed  beneath  his  load 

Thou  never  wilt  despise. 

Then  hear  the  contrite  sinner's  prayer. 
And  every  ruined  soul  repair  ; 

Remember  Zion's  woe  ; 
Show  forth  thy  justifying  grace  ; 
And  for  thyself  vouchsafe  to  raise 

A  s;lorious  Church  below. 


A    GERMAN   TRUST-SONG.  47 

When  thou  hast  sealed  thy  people's  peace, 
Their  sacrifice  of  righteousness, 

Their  gifts,  thou  wilt  approve, 
Their  every  thought  and  word  and  deed 
That  from  a  living  faith  proceed, 

And  all  are  wrought  in  love. 

Laid  on  the  altar  of  thy  Son, 
Pleasing  to  thee  through  Christ  alone, 

The  dear  peculiar  race 
Their  grateful  sacrifice  shall  bring, 
And  hymn  their  Father  and  their  King 

In  endless  songs  of  praise. 

Charles  Wfslky. 


A  German  Trust-Song. 

JUST  as  God  leads  me  1  would  go  : 
I  would  not  ask  to  choose  my  way  : 
Content  with  vvhat  he  will  bestow. 

Assured  he  will  not  let  me  stray  : 
So  as  he  leads,  my  path  1  make  ; 
And  step  by  step  I  gladly  take, 
A  child  in  him  confiding- 


^8  HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

Just  as  God  leads,  I  am  content; 

I  rest  me  calmly  in  his  hands  : 
That  which  he  has  decreed  and  sent, 

That  which  his  will  for  me  commands, 
I  would  that  he  should  all  fulfil, 
That  I  should  do  his  gracious  will 

In  living  or  in  dying. 

Just  as  God  leads,  I  all  resign  ; 

I  trust  me  to  my  Father's  will : 
When  reason's  rays  deceptive  shine, 

His  counsel  would  I  yet  fulfil ; 
That  which  his  love  ordained  as  right 
Before  he  brought  me  to  the  light,  — 

My  all  to  him  resigning. 

Just  as  God  leads  me,  I  abide 

In  faith,  in  hope,  in  suffering,  true  : 

His  strength  is  ever  by  my  side  ; 
Can  aught  my  hold  on  him  undo  ? 

I  hold  me  firm  in  patience,  knowing 

That  God  my  life  is  still  bestowing, 
The  best  in  kindness  sending. 

Just  as  God  leads,  I  onward  go. 
Oft  amid  thorns  and  briers  keen  : 

God  does  not  yet  his  guidance  show  ; 
But,  in  the  end,  it  shall  be  seen 


THE    IVHITE  RAIMENT. 

How,  by  a  loving  Father's  will, 
Faithful  and  true  he  leads  me  still, 
My  trembling  footsteps  guiding. 

Lampertius. 


The  White  Raiment. 

THE  babe,  the  bride,  the  quiet  dead, 
Clad  in  peculiar  raiment  all, 
Yet  each  puts  on  the  spotless  white 
Of  cradle,  shroud,  and  bridal  hall. 

The  babe,  the  bride,  the  quiet  dead, 
Each,  entering  on  an  untried  home. 

Wears  the  one  badge,  the  one  fair  hue, 
Of  birth,  of  wedding,  and  of  tomb. 

Of  death  and  life,  of  mirth  and  grief, 
We  take  it  as  the  symbol  true  : 

It  suits  the  smile,  it  suits  the  sigh, 
That  raiment  of  the  stainless  hue. 

Not  the  rich  rainbow's  varied  bloom,  — 
That  diapason  of  the  light,  — 

Not  the  soft  sunset's  silken  glow, 
Or  flush  of  gorgeous  chrysolite  ; 


49 


50 


HVMXS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

But  purity  of  perfect  light, 

Its  native,  undivided  ray, 
All  that  is  best  of  moon  and  sun, 

The  purest  of  the  dawn  of  day. 

O  cradle  of  our  youngest  age, 

Adorned  with  white,  how  fair  art  thou  ! 
O  robe  of  infancy,  how  bright. 

Like  light  upon  the  moorland  snow ! 

O  bridal  hall  and  bridal  robe, 

How  silver-bright  your  jewelled  gleam, 
Like  sunrise  on  the  gentle  face 

Of  some  translucent  mountain  stream  ! 

O  shroud  of  death,  so  soft  and  pure, 
Like  starlight  upon  marble  fair  1 

Ah  !  surely  it  is  life,  not  death, 
That  in  still  beauty  sleepeth  there. 

Mine  be  a  robe  more  spotless  still, 
With  lustre  bright  that  cannot  fade. 

Purer  and  whiter  than  the  robe 
Of  babe  or  bride  or  quiet  dead. 

Mine  be  the  raiment  given  of  God, 

Wrought  of  fine  linen,  clean  and  white, 

Fit  for  the  eye  of  God  to  see, 
Meet  for  his  home  of  holy  light. 

HoRATIUS    BONAK. 


w 


working  with  thee,  51 

Working  with  Thee. 
ORKING,  O  Christ!  with  thee, 


Working  with  thee  . 

Unworthy,  sinful,  weak,  j 

Although  we  be  :  j 

Our  all  to  thee  we  give,  1 

For  thee  alone  would  live,  j 

And  by  thy  grace  achieve,  \ 

Working  with  thee. 

Along  the  city's  waste. 

Working  with  thee,  3 

Our  eager  footsteps  haste,  1 

Like  thee  to  be  :  \ 

The  poor  we  gather  in,  \ 
The  outcasts  raise  from  sin, 
And  labor  souls  to  win. 

Working  \vith  thee.  \ 

The  little  ones  we  greet,  ■ 

Working  with  thee  ;  ■  j 

And  oft  thy  words  repeat,  i 

"  Come  unto  me  :  "  j 

From  sorrow,  want,  and  gloom,  ^ 

We  bid  them  welcome  home 

Beneath  our  sheltering  dome,  : 
Working  with  thee. 


52 


HYMNS  OF   THE. HIGHER  LIFE 

Saviour,  we  weary  not, 

Working  with  thee  : 
As  hard  as  thine  our  lot 

Can  never  be. 
Our  joy  and  comfort  this,  — 
Thy  grace  sufficient  is  : 
This  changes  toil  to  bliss, 

\Vorking  with  thee. 

So  let  us  labor  on, 

Working  with  thee. 
Till  earth  to  thee  is  won. 

From  sin  set  free  ; 
Till  men,  from  shore  to  shore, 
Receive  thee  and  adore. 
And  join  us  evermore. 

Working  with  thee. 

Anniv.  Female  Gua-Rdian'  Society. 


The  Friend. 

COME  from  the  dimness  of  the  past. 
Come  from  the  mystery  round  thee  cast, 
Oh  !  come,  and  let  my  sad  eyes  see 
The  One  who  truly  loveth  me. 


THE   FRIEND. 

For  thou  hast  known  all  human  fears  ; 
Thine  eyes  grew  dim  with  pitying  tears 
Thou  bore  alone  thy  heavy  cross  ; 
Thou  felt  within  all  human  loss. 

So  enter  in  this  silent  room. 
And  lift  for  me  its  veiling  gloom  : 
Thou  feelest  all  its  fearful  cost ; 
Be  more  to  me  than  treasure  lost. 

Low  kneeling  at  thy  feet,  O  Christ  I 
The  heart  that  never  was  sufficed 
Waiteth  to  have  its  aching  stilled, 
Waiteth  to  have  its  measure  filled. 

All  human  need  and  fear  above, 
What  is  the  measure  of  thy  love  ? 
By  all  thy  passion,  all  thy  pain, 
Thou'lt  wash  me  pure  of  earthly  stain. 

When  life's  gay  music  says,  '•  Rejoice," 
I  listen  still  to  hear  thy  voice  ; 
I  strive  temptation's  tide  to  stem; 
I  try  to  touch  thy  garment's  hem. 

Can  I  so  love  thee,  O  my  Lord  ! 
That  every  promise  of  thy  word 
Will  pour  out  frankincense  and  balm 
Until  the  soul  orrows  healed  and  calm  ? 


53 


54  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

When  all  the  pageant  of  my  prime 
Has  paled,  and  passed  to  autumn-time  ; 
When  I  shall  follow  all  alone 
The  beautiful  procession  flown  ; 

When  youth  and  love  together  fly 
The  faded  forms  of  dreams  gone  by ; 
When  I  shall  say  at  last,  "  At  best, 
But  this  remains,  —  the  hope  of  rest ; "' 

As  once  to  woman  by  the  well, 
With  gentler  words  than  words  can  tell, 
Wilt  take  in  thine  the  lonely  hand  ? 
Wilt  lead  me  to  the  living  land 

That  fair  beyond  our  seeking  sight 
Must  wait  to  make  complete  and  right 
Life's  far  fulfilment,  mocking  sweet, 
That  lures  us  ever  incomplete  ? 

O  tender-hearted  Master  !  see 
What  love  uplifts  its  cry  to  thee  : 
Like  thee,  with  joy  it  would  have  died, 
And  for  its  own  been  crucified. 

Thou  feelest  all  its  fearful  cost ; 
Be  more  than  all  my  treasure  lost : 
Oh  !  come,  and  let  my  sad  eyes  see 
The  One  who  truly  loveth  me. 

Mary  Clemmhr  Amr«;. 


nothing  to  do.  55 

Nothing  to  do. 

NOTHING  to  do  "  in  this  world  of  ours, 
Where  weeds  spring  up  with  the  fairest 
flowers, 
Where  smiles  have  only  a  fitful  play, 
Where  hearts  are  breaking  every  day  ! 

''  Nothing  to  do,"  thou  Christian  soul, 
W^ rapping  thee  round  in  thy  selfish  stole  ! 
Oit  with  the  garments  of  sloth  and  sin  ! 
Christ,  thy  Lord,  hath  a  kingdom  to  win. 

"  Nothing  to  do  !  "     There  are  prayers  to  lay 
On  the  altar  of  incense,  day  by  day  ; 
There  are  foes  to  meet  within  and  without ; 
There  is  error  to  conquer,  strong  and  stout. 

"  Nothing  to  do  !  "     There  are  minds  to  teach 
The  simplest  forms  of  Christian  speech  ; 
There  are  hearts  to  lure,  with  loving  wile, 
From  the  grimmest  haunts  of  Sin's  defile. 

"  Nothing  to  do  !  "     There  are  iambs  to  feed, 
The  precious  hope  of  the  Church's  need  ; 
Strength  to  be  borne  to  the  weak  and  faint ; 
Vigils  to  keep  with  the  doubting  saint. 


56  HYMNS  OF    THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

"  Nothing  to  do  !  "  and  thy  Saviour  said, 
"  Follow  thou  me  in  the  path  I  tread." 
Lord,  lend  thy  help  the  journey  through, 
Lest,  faint,  we  cry,  "  So  much  to  do  !  " 

N.  E. 


My  Axgel-Dress. 

HEAVENLY  Father,  I  would  wear 
Angel-garments,  white  and  fair  : 
Angel-vesture,  undefiled. 
Wilt  thou  give  unto  thy  child  ? 

Not  a  robe  of  many  hues. 
Such  as  earthly  fathers  choose  : 
Discord  weaves  the  gaudy  vest ; 
Not  in  such  let  me  be  drest. 

Take  the  raiment  soiled  away 
That  I  wear  with  shame  to-day : 
Give  my  angel-robes  to  me. 
White  with  heaven's  own  purity 

Take  away  my  cloak  of  pride. 
And  the  worthless  rags  'twould  hide  : 
Clothe  me  in  my  angel-dress, 
Beautiful  with  holiness. 


MV  ANGEL-DRESS. 

Let  me  wear  the  white  robes  here, 
Even  on  earth,  my  Father  dear ; 
Holding  fast  thy  hand,  and  so 
Through  the  world  unspotted  go. 

Perfume  every  fold  with  love, 
Hinting  heaven  where'er  I  rove, 
As  an  Indian  vessel's  sails 
Whisper  of  her  costly  bales. 

Let  me  now  the  white  robes  wear, 
Then  I  need  no  more  prepare  ; 
All  apparelled  for  my  home 
Whensoe'er  thou  callest,  "  Come." 

Thus  apparelled,  I  shall  be 

As  a  signal  set  for  thee, 

That  the  wretched,  poor,  and  weak 

May  the  same  fair  garments  seek. 

"  Buy  of  me,"  I  hear  thee  say  : 
I  have  nought  wherewith  to  pay  ; 
But  I  give  myself  to  thee  ; 
Clothed,  adopted,  I  shall  be. 

Lucy  Lakcom. 


57 


58        hymns  of  the  higher  life. 

The  Offering. 

SAVIOUR,  is  there  any  thing 
I  have  failed  to  bring  ? 
Lies  my  offering  at  thy  feet 
Incomplete  ? 

"  Lord,  bethink  thee.  I  am  poor  ; 

Slender  is  my  store  ; 
Yea,  my  best  is  nothing  worth 
Even  on  earth,  — 

"  Even  to  men  :  oh  !  then,  how  small 

To  the  Lord  of  all, 

Who,  creating  worlds  anew, 

As  the  dew 

"Sweeps  them  lightly  from  their  place 

In  the  fields  of  space  ; 
Counts  the  universe  as  nought 
But  a  thought  ! 

'•Yet.  since  thou  hast  deigned  to  ask, 

Oh,  how  sweet  the  task 
(Though  the  gift  be  poor)  to  bring 
Every  thing  ! 


THE   OFFERING.  59  \ 

"  Every  thing  ?     Alas,  this  fear  ! 

I  may  yet  appear 
Holding  some  dear  bawble  fast 
At  the  last. 

"  Saviour,  is  there  any  thing 

I  have  failed  to  bring  ? 
Lies  my  offering  incomplete  ' 

At  thy  feet  ?  -'  ; 

Answered  he,  "  If  thou  hast  brous^ht,  ' 

Clothing  every  thought,  ; 

Love  to  God,  and  love  to  man,  ! 

As  men  can  ;  \ 

"  Charity  for  all  who  stray  ] 

From  the  narrow  way  ;  j 

Eager  hands  to  draw  them  back,  1 

And  point  the  track  ;  '\ 

"  Gifts  according  to  thy  store  \ 

For  the  needy  poor  ; 
In  my  suffering  ones  dost  see 

Even  me  ;  ,j 


"  If  thy  tears  are  swift  to  flow 
For  thy  brother's  woe  ; 

Having  strength,  if  thou  dost  seek 
To  raise  the  weak  ; 


6o  HVMiVS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

"  If  thou  dost  my  mercy  show 

Even  to  thy  foe  ; 
Grant  the  pardon  proffered  thee 
Full  and  free  ; 

"  Yea,  if  thou  thy  will  hast  brought, 

Crossing  mine  in  nought  ; 

Faith  that  shall  outlast  thy  breath, 

Strong  in  death  ; 

"  Matters  not  thy  world's  estate, 

Be  it  small  or  great : 
This  thy  offering,  thou  dost  bring 
Every  thing !'''' 

"  Nay,  my  Lord,  my  Lord  !  "  I  cried  ; 

"  I  am  sorely  tried  : 
Nothing,  nothing  have  I  brought 
That  I  ought ! 

"Cold  my  love  to  thee.  Most  High  ; 

Cold  my  charity ; 
Idle  hands  and  heart  of  stone 
Are  my  own  ; 

"  Mine  an  unsubdued  will ; 

Faith  that  gropeth  still : 
Yet,  O  God  my  Righteousness  ! 
Bless,  oh  !  bless. 


THE   OFFERING.  6 1 

"This,  at  least,  to  thee  I  bring,  — 

Meek  petitioning  ; 
Humble  penitence  and  pain  : 
Is  it  vain  ? 

"  Strong  desire  to  serve  thee  more 

Than  I  have  before, 
And  in  thy  suffering  ones  to  see 
Even  thee  ! 

"  Now,  indeed,  my  tears  do  flow 

For  all  others'  woe  ; 
Tasting  grief  that  doth  surpass 
All,  alas  ! 

"  Hear  me.  Lord  of  earth  and  sky  I 

At  thy  feet  I  lie  ; 
My  confessions  all  I  bring, — 
Every  thing. 

"  Pitying  Lord,  wilt  thou  despise 

This  my  sacrifice  ? 
Tell  me.  Saviour,  do  I  brin; 
Any  thing?'' 


'& 


Answered  he,  "At  last,  at  last, 

Is  thy  pride  o'erpast  ! 
Little  is  thy  best,  indeed  ; 
Great  thy  need. 


62  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

"  Yet,  beloved  of  my  heart, 

I  for  thee  did  smart ; 
On  the  cross,  in  thy  dear  stead. 
Bowed  my  head  ; 

"  Through  Death's  sharpest,  sorest  throes 

I  triumphant  rose. 
Even  that  thou  mightest  be 
Raised  with  me. 

"Is  my  love  for  thee  grown  less, 

That  I  should  not  bless, 
Or  the  lowliest  sacrifice 
Sliould  despise  ? 

"  Nay,  but  I  am  satisfied, 

Having  all  beside, 
Since  that  erring  heart  of  thine. 
On  my  shrine, 

"  Broken,  contrite,  suppliant  lies,  — 

Sweetest  sacrifice  ! 
In  that  oflfering  thou  dost  bring 
Every  thing  ! " 

Harriet  McEwen  Kimball. 


LET  US  DRAW  NEAR  63 


Let  Us  draw  Near. 

WHY  stand  I  lingering  without, 
In  fear  and  weariness  and  doubt, 
When  all  is  light  within  ? 

0  Thou,  the  new  and  living  \Vay, 

The  trembler's  Guide,  the  sinner's  Stay, 
My  High  Priest,  lead  me  in  ! 

1  know  the  mercy-seat  is  there. 

On  which  thou  sitt'st  to  answer  prayer  ; 

I  know  the  blood  is  shed, 
The  everlasting  covenant  sealed. 
The  everlasting  grace  revealed, 

And  life  has  reached  the  dead  ! 

Not  the  mere  paradise  bc!o-.v  ; 

The  heaven  of  heavens  is  opened  now. 

And  we  its  bliss  regain  : 
Guarded  so  long  by  fire  and  sword, 
The  gate  stands  wide,  the  way  restored, 

The  veil  is  rent  in  twain  I 

Without,  the  cloud  and  gloom  appear  ; 
The  peril  and  the  storm  are  near  ; 
The  foe  is  rag-ino:  round  : 


64  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Then  let  me  boldly  enter  in, 
There  end  my  danger,  fear,  and  sin, 
And  rest  on  holy  ground. 

HORATIUS   BONAI: 


Resignation  to  Christ. 

WHEN  shall  Thy  love  constrain, 
And  force  me  to  Thy  breast  ? 
When  shall  my  soul  return  again 
To  her  eternal  rest  ? 

Ah  !  what  avails  my  strife. 
My  wandering  to  and  fro  ? 
Thou  hast  the  words  of  endless  life  : 
Ah  I  whither  should  I  go  ? 

Thy  condescending  grace 
To  me  did  freely  move  : 
It  calls  me  still  to  seek  Thy  face, 
And  stoops  to  ask  my  love. 

Lord,  at  thy  feet  I  fall ; 
I  groan  to  be  set  free  : 
I  fain  would  now  obey  the  call. 
And  give  up  all  for  thee. 


RESIGNATION   TO   CHRIST. 

To  rescue  me  from  woe 
Thou  didst  with  all  things  part  ; 
Didst  lead  a  suffering  life  below 
To  gain  my  worthless  heart. 

My  worthless  heart  to  gain, 
The  God  of  all  that  breathe 
Was  found  in  fashion  as  a  man, 
And  died  a  cursed  death. 

And  can  I  yet  delay 
My  little  all  to  give  ; 
To  tear  my  soul  from  earth  away 
For  Jesus  to  receive  ? 

Nay,  but  I  yield,  I  yield  ; 
I  can  hold  out  no  more  : 
I  sink,  by  dying  love  compelled, 
And  own  thee  conqueror. 

Though  late,  I  all  forsake  ; 
My  friends,  my  all,  resign  : 
Gracious  Redeemer,  take,  oh  !  take, 
And  seal  me  ever  thine. 

Come  and  possess  me  whole, 
-    Nor  hence  again  remove  ; 
Settle  and  fix  my  wavering  soul 

Witii  all  thy  weight  of  love. 

5 


6s 


66  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

My  one  desire  be  this,  — 
Thy  only  love  to  know  ; 
To  seek  and  taste  no  other  bhss, 
No  other  good,  below. 

My  Life,  my  Portion,  tliou  ; 
Thou  all-sufficient  art : 
My  Hope,  my  heavenly  Treasure,  now 
Enter,  and  keep  my  heart. 

Charles  Wesley 


Thoughts  of  Christ. 

JESU,  the  very  thought  of  thee 
With  sweetness  fills  the  breast ; 
But  sweeter  far  thy  face  to  see, 
And  in  thy  presence  rest. 

No  voice  can  sing,  no  heirt  can  frame. 

Nor  can  the  memory  find, 
A  sweeter  sound  than  Jesu's  name, 

The  Saviour  of  mankind. 

O  hope  of  every  contrite  heart  I 

O  joy  of  all  the  meek  I 
To  those  wlio  fall  how  kind  thou  art  ! 

How  good  to  those  who  seek  I 


A    LITTLE   BIRD  I  AM.  67 

But  what  to  those  who  find  ?     Ah  !  this 
Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  : 

The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  his  loved  ones  know. 

Jesu,  our  only  joy  be  thou. 

As  thou  our  prize  wilt  be  ; 
In  thee  be  all  our  glory  now, 

And  through  eternity. 

Beknakd  of  Fontaine. 


A  Little  Bird  I  a.m. 

COMPOSED    IN    PRISON. 

A  LITTLE  bird  I  am, 
Shut  from  the  fields  of  air ; 
And  in  my  cage  I  sit,  and  sing 

To  Him  who  placed  me  there  ; 
Well  pleased  a  prisoner  to  be. 
Because,  my  God,  it  pleases  thee. 

Nought  have  I  else  to  do  : 
I  sing  the  whole  day  long  ; 
And  He  whom  most  I  love  to  please 
Doth  listen  to  mv  sone  : 


68  HVM.VS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

He  caught  and  bound  my  wandering  wing 
But  still  He  bends  to  hear  me  sing. 

Thou  hast  an  ear  to  hear, 

A  heart  to  love  and  bless  ; 
And,  though  my  notes  were  e'er  so  rude, 

Thou  wouldst  not  hear  the  less  ; 
Because  Thou  knowest,  as  they  fall, 
That  love,  sweet  love,  inspires  them  all. 

My  cage  confines  me  round  ; 

Abroad  I  cannot  fly  : 
But,  though  my  wing  is  closely  bound, 

My  heart's  at  liberty. 
My  prison-walls  cannot  control 
The  flight,  the  freedom,  of  the  soul. 

Oh  !  it  is  good  to  soar 

These  bolts  and  bars  above, 
To  Him  whose  purpose  I  adore. 

Whose  providence  I  love  ; 
And  in  Thy  mighty  will  to  find 
The  joy,  the  freedom,  of  the  mind. 

Madame  Guyon. 


FORSAKEN,  VET  HOPING.  69 


■  Forsaken,  yet  Hoping. 

HAPPY  the  hours,  the  golden  days, 
When  I  could  call  my  Jesus  mine, 
And  sit  and  view  his  smiling  face. 
And  melt  in  pleasures  all  divine. 

Near  to  my  heart,  within  my  arms, 
He  lay,  till  sin  defiled  my  breast ; 

Till  broken  vows  and  earthly  charms 
Tired  and  provoked  my  heavenly  Guest. 

And  now  he's  gone,  (oh  mighty  woe  ! ) 
Gone  from  my  soul,  and  hides  his  love  ! 

Curse  on  you,  sins,  that  grieved  him  so,  — 
Ye  sins  that  forced  him  to  remove  ! 

Break,  break,  my  heart ;  complain,  my  tongue  ; 

Hither,  my  friends,  your  sorrows  bring  ; 
Angels,  assist  my  doleful  song. 

If  you  have  e'er  a  mournful  string. 

But,  ah  !  your  joys  are  ever  high  ; 

Ever  his  lovely  face  you  see  ; 
While  my  poor  spirits  pant  and  die, 

And  groan  for  thee,  my  God,  —  for  thee. 


70 


HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Yet  let  my  hope  look  through  my  tears, 
And  spy  afar  his  rolling  throne  : 

His  chariot,  through  the  cleaving  spheres, 
Shall  bring  the  bright  Beloved  down. 

S'.vift  as  a  roe  flies  o'er  the  hills. 

My  soul  springs  out  to  meet  him  high  ; 

Then  the  fair  Conqueror  turns  his  wheels, 
And  climbs  the  mansions  of  the  sky. 

There  smiling  joy  forever  reigns  ; 

No  more  the  turtle  leaves  the  dove  : 
Farewell  to  jealousies  a.nd  pains. 

And  all  the  ills  of  absent  love! 

Isaac  Watts. 


Our  Master. 

TMMORTAL  Love,  forever  full, 
-L      Forever  flowing  free, 
Forever  shared,  forever  whole, 
A  never-ebbing  sea  ! 

Our  outward  lips  confess  the  name 

All  other  names  above  : 
Love  only  knoweth  whence  it  came, 

And  comprehendeth  love. 


OUK    AfASTER.  y  i 

Blow,  winds  of  God.  awake,  and  blow 

The  mists  of  earth  away  ; 
Shine  out,  O  Light  divine  !  and  show 

How  wide  and  far  we  stray. 

Hush  every  lip,  close  every  book, 
The  strife  of  tongues  forbear  : 

Why  forward  reach,  or  backward  look, 
For  love  that  clasps  like  air  ? 

We  may  not  climb  the  heavenly  steeps 
To  bring  the  Lord  Christ  down  : 

In  vain  we  search  the  lowest  deeps 
For  Him  no  depths  can  drown. 

Nor  holy  bread,  nor  blood  of  grape, 

The  lineaments  restore 
Of  Him  we  know  in  outward  shape 

And  in  the  flesh  no  more. 

He  Cometh  not  a  King  to  reign  ; 

The  world's  long  hope  is  dim  : 
The  weary  centuries  watch  in  vain 

The  clouds  of  heaven  for  him. 

Death  comes  ;  life  goes  ;  the  asking  eye 

And  ear  are  answerless  ; 
The  grave  is  dumb  ;  the  hollow  sky 

Is  sad  with  silentness. 


72  HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

The  letter  fails,  and  systems  fall, 

And  every  symbol  wane* : 
The  Spirit  over-brooding  all, 

Eternal  Love,  remains. 

And  not  for  signs  in  heaven  above 

Or  earth  below  they  look, 
Who  know  with  John  his  smile  of  love, 

With  Peter  his  rebuke. 

In  joy  of  inward  peace,  or  sense 

Of  sorrow  over  sin, 
He  is  his  own  best  evidence  : 

His  witness  is  within. 

No  fable  old,  nor  mythic  lore, 
Nor  dream  of  bards  and  seers. 

No  dead  fact  stranded  on  the  shore 
Of  the  oblivious  years, 

But  warm,  sweet,  tender,  even  yet 

A  present  help  is  he  : 
And  faith  has  still  its  Olivet ; 

And  love,  its  Galilee. 

The  healing  of  his  seamless  dress 

ts  by  our  beds  of  pain  : 
We  touch  him  in  life's  throng  and  press. 

And  we  are  whole  again. 


OUR  MASTER. 


73 


Through  him  the  first  fond  prayers  are  said 

Our  h'ps  of  childhood  frame  ; 
The  last  low  whispers  of  our  dead 

Are  burdened  with  his  name. 

O  Lord  and  Master  of  us  all ! 

Whate'er  our  name  or  sign, 
We  own  thy  sway,  we  hear  thy  call. 

We  test  our  lives  by  thine. 

Thou  judgest  us  ;  thy  purity 

Doth  all  our  lusts  condemn  ; 
The  love  that  draws  us  nearer  thee 

Is  hot  with  wrath  to  them. 

Our  thoughts  lie  open  to  thy  sight ; 

And,  naked  to  thy  glance. 
Our  secret  sins  are  in  the  light 

Of  thy  pure  countenance. 

Thy  healing  pains  ;  a  keen  distress 

Thy  tender  light  shines  in  ; 
Thy  sweetness  is  the  bitterness  ; 

Thy  grace,  the  pang  of  sin. 

Yet,  weak  and  blinded  though  we  be, 

Thou  dost  our  service  own  : 
We  bring  our  varying  gifts  to  thee, 

And  thou  rejectest  none. 


74 


HVMSS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

To  thee  our  full  humanity. 

Its  joys  and  pains,  belong  : 
The  wrong  of  man  to  man  on  thee 

Inflicts  a  deeper  wrong. 

Who  hates,  hates  thee  ;  who  loves,  becomes 

Therein  to  thee  aUied  : 
All  sweet  accords  of  hearts  and  homes 

In  thee  are  multiplied. 

Deep  strike  thy  roots,  O  heavenly  Vine  ! 

Within  our  earthly  sod, 
Most  human  and  yet  most  divine. 

The  flower  of  man  and  God. 

O  Love  !  O  Life  !  —  our  faith  and  sight 

Thy  presence  maketh  one  ; 
As  through  transfigured  clouds  of  white 

We  trace  the  noonday  sun. 

So,  to  our  mortal  eyes  subdued, 
Flesh-veiled,  but  not  concealed. 

We  know  in  thee  the  fatherhood 
And  heart  of  God  revealed. 

We  faintly  hear,  we  dimly  see, 

In  differing  phrase  we  pray  ; 
But,  dim  or  clear,  we  own  in  thee 

The  Light,  the  Truth,  the  Way. 


OUR  MASTER. 


75 


The  homage  that  we  render  thee 

Is  still  our  Father's  own  : 
Nor  jealous  claim  or  rivalry  ] 

Divides  the  Cross  and  Throne.  •! 


To  do  thy  will  is  more  tlian  praise, 
As  words  are  less  than  deeds  ; 

And  simple  trust  can  find  thy  ways 
We  miss  with  chart  of  creeds. 

No  pride  of  self  thy  service  hath, 

No  place  for  me  and  mine  : 
Our  human  strength  is  weakness,  death 

Our  life,  apart  from  thine. 

Apart  from  thee,  all  gain  is  loss. 

All  labor  vainly  done  : 
The  solemn  shadow  of  thy  cross 

Is  better  than  the  sun. 

Alone,  O  Love  ineffable  ! 

Thy  saving  name  is  given  : 
To  turn  aside  from  thee  is  hell, 

To  walk  with  thee  is  heaven. 

How  vain,  secure  in  all  thou  art. 

Our  noisy  championship  ! 
The  sighing  of  the  contrite  heart 

Is  more  than  flattering  lip. 


76  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

Not  thine  the  bigot's  partial  plea, 
Nor  thine  the  zealot's  ban  : 

Thou  well  canst  spare  a  love  of  thee 
Which  ends  in  hate  of  man. 

Our  Friend,  our  Brother,  and  our  Lord, 

What  may  thy  service  be  ? 
Nor  name,  nor  form,  nor  ritual  word. 

But  simply  following  thee. 

We  bring  no  ghastly  holocaust, 

■  We  pile  no  graven  stone  : 
He  serves  thee  best  who  loveth  most 
His  brothers  and  thy  own. 

Thy  litanies,  sweet  offices 

Of  love  and  gratitude  ; 

Thy  sacramental  liturgies, 


In  vain  shall  waves  of  incense  drift 

The  vaulted  nave  around. 
In  vain  the  minster  turret  lift 

Its  brazen  weights  of  sound. 

The  heart  must  ring  thy  Christmas-bells, 

Thy  inward  altars  raise  : 
Its  faith  and  hope  thy  canticles; 

And  its  obedience,  praise. 

Whittier. 


the  love  of  god.  77 

The  Love  of  God. 

BLEST  be  thy  love,  dear  Lord, 
That  taught  us  this  sweet  way,  — 
Only  to  love  thee  for  thyself, 
And  for  that  love  obey. 

O  Thou,  our  soul's  chief  hope  ! 
We  to  thy  mercy  fly  : 
Where'er  we  are,  thou  canst  protect ; 
Whate'er  we  need,  supply. 

Whether  we  sleep  or  wake, 
To  thee  w'e  both  resign  : 
By  night  we  see  as  well  as  day, 
If  thy  light  on  us  shine. 

Whether  we  live  or  die, 
Both  we  submit  to  thee  : 
In  death  we  live,  as  well  as  life, 
If  thine  in  death  we  be. 

F.   AUSTIK. 


78 


HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 


"When  thou  hast  shut  thy  Door,  fray." 

LORD,  I  have  shut  my  door, — 
Shut    out   hfe's    busy   cares    and   fretting 
noise  : 
Here  in  this  silence  they  intrude  no  more. 

Speak  thovi,  and  heavenly  joys 
Shall  fill  my  heart  with  music  sweet  and  calm,  — 
A  holy  psalm. 

Yes,  I  have  shut  my  door 
Even  on  all  the  beauty  of  thine  earth.  — 
To  its  blue  ceiling  from  its  emerald  floor, 

Filled  with  spring's  bloom  and  mirth  : 
From  these  thy  works  I  turn,  thyself  I  seek, 
To  thee  I  speak. 

And  I  have  shut  my  door 
On  earthly  passion.  —  all  its  yearning  love, 
Its  tender  friendships,  all  the  priceless  store 

Of  human  ties.     Above 
All  these  my  heart  aspires,  O  Heart  divine  ! 
Stoop  thou  to  mine. 

Lord,  I  have  shut  my  door  ! 
Come  thou  and  visit  me  :   I  am  alone  I 


CHRIST  LOVED    UNSEEN. 


79 


Come,  as  when  doors  were  shut  thou  cam'st  of 

yore, 

And  visitedst  thine  own. 

My  Lord  !  I  kneel  with  reverent  love  and  fear  ; 

For  thou  art  here  ! 

Mary  E.  Atkinson. 


Christ  loved  Unseen. 

JESUS,  these  eyes  have  never  seen 
That  radiant  form  of  thine  : 
The  veil  of  sense  hangs  dark  between 
Thy  blessed  face  and  mine. 

I  see  thee  not,  I  hear  thee  not  ; 

Yet  art  thou  oft  with  me  ; 
And  earth  hath  ne'er  so  dear  a  spot 

As  where  I  meet  with  thee. 

Like  some  bright  dream,  that  comes  unsought 

When  slumbers  o'er  me  roll, 
Thine  image  ever  tills  my  thought, 

And  charms  my  ravished  soul. 

Yet  though  I  have  not  seen,  and  still 

Must  rest  in  faith  alone, 
I  iove  thee,  dearest  Lord,  and  will. 

Unseen,  but  not  unknown. 


8o        //yjinvs  of  the  higher  life. 

When  death  these  mortal  eyes  shall  seal, 
And  still  this  throbbing  heart, 

The  rending  veil  shall  thee  reveal, 
All  glorious  as  thou  art. 

Ray  Palmer. 


"Abide  in  Me,  and  I  in  You." 

THE   soul's   answer. 

THAT  mystic  word  of  thine,   O  sovereign 
Lord  ! 
Is  ail  too  pure,  too  high,  too  deep,  for  me  : 
Weary  of  striving,  and  with  longing  faint, 
I  breathe  it  back  again  in  prayer  to  thee. 

Abide  in  me,  I  pray,  and  I  in  thee  ; 

From  this  good  hour,  oh  !  leave  me   never- 
more : 
Then  shall   the  discord  cease,   the   wound   be 
healed, 
The  lifelong  bleeding  of  the  soul  be  o'er. 

Abide  in  me  ;  o'ershadow  by  thy  love 

Each  half-formed  purpose  and  dark  thought 
of  sin  ; 

Quench,  e'er  it  rise,  each  selfish,  low  desire  ; 
And  keep  my  soul  as  thine,  calm  and  divine. 


/  I/Al'E   FOUND  IT.  8 1 

As  some  rarej^erfume  in  a  vase  of  clay 
Pervades  it  with  a  fragrance  not  its  own, 

So,  when  thou  dwellest  in  a  mortal  soul, 

All  heaven's  own  sweetness  seems  around  it 
thrown. 

Abide  in  me.  Tliere  liave  been  moments  blest 
When  I  have  heard  thy  voice  and  felt  thy 
power  : 

Then  evil  lost  its  grasp  ;  and  passion,  hushed,  ' 
Owned  the  divine  enchantment  of  the  hour. 

These  were  but  seasons  beautiful  and  rare  ; 

Abide  in  me,  and  they  shall  ever  be : 
Fulfil  at  once  thy  precept  and  my  prayer ; 

Come  and  abide  in  me,  and  I  in  thee. 

Harriet  Eeecher  Stowe. 


I    HAVE    FOUND    If. 

COME,  and  rejoice  with  me  : 
For  once  my  heart  w^as  poor ; 
And  I  have  found  a  treasury 
Of  love,  a  boundless  store. 

Come,  and  rejoice  with  me  : 
I,  who  was  sick  at  heart, 
Have  met  with  One  who  knows  my  case, 
And  knows  the  healing  art. 

6 


HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

Come,  and  rejoice  with  me  : 
For  I  was  wearied  sore  ; 
And  I  have  found  a  mighty  arm, 
Which  holds  me  evermore. 

Come,  and  rejoice  with  me  : 
My  feet  so  wide  did  roam  ! 
And  One  has  sought  me  from  afar, 
And  beareth  me  safe  home. 

Come,  and  rejoice  with  me  ; 
For  I  have  found  a  Friend 
Who  knows  my  heart's  most  secret  depths. 
Yet  loves  me  without  end. 

I  knew  not  of  his  love, 
And  he  had  loved  so  long, 
With  love  so  faithful  and  so  deep. 
So  tender  and  so  strong  ! 

And  now  I  know  it  all. 
Have  heard  and  know  his  voice. 
And  hear  it  still  from  day  to  day  : 
Can  I  enough  rejoice  ? 

Mrs.  Charles. 


pencil-marks.  83 

Pencil-Marks  in  a  Book  of  Devotion. 

STRONG    words  are  these:    "O    Lord!    I 
seek  but  thee, 
Not  thine.     I  ask  not  comfort,  ask  not  rest : 
Give  what  and  how  and  when  thou  wilt  to  me, 
1    bless  thee ;    take   all   back,   and  be   thou 
blest." 

Sweet  words  are  these  :  "  O  Lord  !  it  is  thy  love, 
And  not  thy  gifts,  I  seek  ;  yet  am  as  one 

That  loveth  so,  I  prize  the  least  above 
All  other  worth  or  sweetness  under  sun." 

And  all  these  lines  are  underscored,  and  here 
And  there  a  tear  hath  been  and  left  its  stain,  — 

The  only  record,  haply,  of  a  tear 

Long  wiped  from  eyes  no  more  to  weep  again. 

And,  as  I  gaze,  a  solemn  joy  comes  o'er  me  : 
By  these  deep  footprints,  I  can  surely  guess 

Some  pilgrim,  by  the  road  that  lies  before  me, 
Hath  crossed,  long  time  ago,  the  wilderness. 

With    feet  oft  bruised  among  its   sharp  taints, 
duly 

He  turned  aside  to  gather  simples  here. 
And  lay  up  cordials  for  his  faintness  :  truly. 

Now  will  I  track  his  steps,  and  be  of  cheer. 


84  HVMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

And,  wearied,  by  this  wayside  fountain's  brink 
He  sat  to  rest ;  and,  as  it  then  befell, 

The  stone  was  rolled  away:  he  stooped  to  drink 
The  waters  springing  up  from  life's  clear  well. 

And  oft,  upon  his  journey  faring  sadly, 

He   communed  with   this    Teacher   from  on 
high  ; 
And,  meeting  words  of  promise,  meekly,  gladly. 
Went  on  his  way  rejoicing.     So  will  I. 

Dora  Greexwell. 


The  Refuge. 

TO  the  haven  of  thy  breast, 
O  Son  of  Manl'l  fly: 
Be  my  refuge  and  my  rest ; 

For,  oh  !  the  storm  is  high. 
Save  me  from  the  furious  blast  ; 
A  covert  from  the  tempest  be 
Hide  me,  Jesus,  till  o'erpast 
The  storm  of  sin  I  see. 

Welcome  as  the  water-spring 
To  a  dry,  barren  place, 

Oh  !  descend  on  me,  and  bring 
Thv  sweet,  refreshing  grace. . 


THE   REFUGE. 

O'er  a  parched  and  weary  land 
As  a  great  rock  extends  its  shade, 

Hide  me,  Saviour,  with  thine  hand, 
And  screen  my  naked  head. 

In  the  time  of  my  distress, 

Thou  hast  my  succor  been  ; 
In  my  utter  helplessness. 

Restraining  me  from  sin  : 
Oh.  how  swiftly  didst  thou  move 

To  save  me  in  the  trying  hour  I 
Still  protect  me  with  thy  love, 

And  shield  me  with  thy  power. 

First  and  last  in  me  perform 

The  work  thou  hast  begun  ; 
Be  my  shelter  from  the  storm, 

My  shadow  from  the  sun  : 
Weary,  parched  with  thirst  and  faint. 

Till  thou  the  abiding  Spirit  breathe. 
Every  moment,  Lord,  I  want 

The  merit  of  thy  death. 

Never  shall  I  want  it  less 

When  thou  the  gift  hast  given, 

Filled  me  with  thy  righteousness. 
And  sealed  the  heir  of  heaven  : 


86  HVMXS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

I  shall  hang  upon  my  God 
Till  I  thy  perfect  glory  see  ; 

Till  the  sprinkling  of  thy  blood 
Shall  speak  me  up  to  thee. 

Charles  Wesley. 


"  Ye  did  it  not  to  Me." 

I   SAT,  and  gazed  upon  my  sunny  home  : 
All  pleasant  things  were  there,  — 
Bright  things  to  look  at,  and  sweet  soothing 

sounds 
That  came  and  went  upon  the  perfumed  air. 
The  sunbeam  glanced  and  quivered 
Through  the  many-colored  pane, 
And  the  marble  floor  at  the  open  door 

Mirrored  it  back  again  ; 
The  flowers  blushed  in  beauty  ; 
The  birds  sang  forth  their  glee  : 
I  looked,  and  listened  ;  and  I  thanked  my  Father 
That  'twas  all  for  me. 

And  then  I  thought  of  One  who  had  been  here 

In  days  of  yore. 
Wearily  walking  on  the  world  he  made,  — 


y£   DID  IT  NOT   TO  ME.  Sj 

The  Son  of  man,  and  yet  the  Son  of  God  ; 

Despised  and  poor  ! 
1  thought  of  him  when  first  his  infant  form 
Needed  a  resting-place,  and  there  was  none  : 
The  King  of  Heaven  was  waiting  to  be  housed  ; 

Earth's  dweUings  had  no  room  ! 
I  thought  of  him  upon  the  mountain-side, 

When  all  night  long 
The  silent  stars  looked  down  upon  his  loneli- 
ness ; 
For  Jesus  had  no  home  ! 

I  thought  and  thought,  until  my  gushing  heart 
Groaned  forth  its  longings  : 
"  Oh  !  had  I  been  there, 
What  tender  ministry,  what  fostering  care, 
Wouldst  thou  have  known, 
Thou  blessed  One  ! 
What  kindly  words  ! 
What  thoughts  and  deeds  of  love  !  " 
The  hot  tears  gathered  fast : 
1  laid  me  down  and  wept. 

Was  it  a  breeze  that  stole  into  my  room, 

So  like  a  voice  ? 
That  came  quite  close,  —  close  to  my  burning 
brow,  — 
And  whispered,  ''Why  not  now?'' 


88  HYMNS  OF    THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

It  came  again  :   I  brushed  the  tears  away  ; 
And,  as  I  bent  my  head  down  very  low, 
I  thought  I  heard  him  say, 
^''  But  why  not  now  ? 

••  There  is  a  doorway  in  a  narrow  street. 
And  close  beside  that  door  a  broken  stair. 

And  then  a  low,  dark  room. 
The  room  is  bare  : 

But  in  a  corner  lies 
A  worn-out  form  upon  a  hard  straw-bed, 
No  pillow  underneath  his  aching  head  ; 
A  face  grown  wan  with  suffering,  and  a  hand 
Scarce  strong  enough   to  reach  the  small  dry 
crust 

That  lies  upon  the  chair 

Go  in  ;  for  1  am  there  ! 
I  have  been  waiting  wearily  in  that  cold  room, 

Waiting  long,  lonely  hours.  — 

Waiting  for  thee  to  come. 

"There's  a  low,  quiet  corner  in  a  green  church- 
yard, 
Where  deep  shadows  lie. 
And  sound  of  passing  feet  goes  seldom  by : 

1  want  thee  there. 
In  that  still  place,  beside  a  new-made  grave, 
A  woman  has  been  weeping  all  day  long. 


y£   DID  IT  NOT   TO  ME. 


89 


None  marked  her  where  she  sate  ; 
And  now  'tis  getting  late, 
And  stars  are  coming  out,  — 
Beautiful  stars  !  the  stars 
That  used  to  gaze  on  me  at  Olivet ; 
The  chill  night-dews  are  creeping  through  her 

trame : 
She  dares  not  venture  back  from  whence  she 
came. 

She  needs  a  home  : 
I  called  for  thee,  and  waited  ;  • 
But  thou  didst  not  come. 
I  want  thy  pitying  tears,  that  fell  just  now 
Upon  the  jewelled  slab,  to  fall  upon  her  cheek  ; 

For  tears  can  speak  : 
Lay  thy  warm  hand  upon  the  fainting  one. 
And  leave  me  not  to  watch  and  weep  alone. 

"  There  is  one  seated  near  an  open  door. 
Where  to  and  fro,  all  through  the  busy  day, 
The  sorrowing  and  the  poor 
Have  found  their  way  ; 
And  now,  for  very  v/eariness. 
His  eyes  are  closed,  — 
Kind,  earnest  eyes,  that  have  looked  lovingly 
On  many  a  ghastly  spectacle  of  woe,  — 
Looked  into  depths  where  loathsome  miseries 
lie, 


90 


HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


And  never  wept  mere  idle  sympathy. 
The  heavy  hand  has  fallen  by  his  side,  — 
The  strong,  brave  hand 
That  waited  my  command, 
And  then  did  deadly  battle  with  the  foe  ; 
That  never  flinched  from  any  task 

To  which  I  called  : 
AVere  the  way  smooth  or  rough. 
My  bidding  was  enough. 
Go  in,  and  look  ; 
For  tears  have  dropped  upon  the  open  book  ! 

"  That  heart  is  burdened,  — ■ 

Burdened  for  my  sake  : 
Thou,  in  thy  thoughtless  ease,  wilt  let  it  break  ! 
'Twas  on  a  summer's  day,  long  years  ago, 
I  called  two  willing  servants  to  my  feet : 
I  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  said  to  each, 

'  I  shed  my  blood  for  thee  : 
Lovest  thou  me  t ' 

And  then  I  gave  hini  work,  — 

Large  work  within  my  fold. 

He  had  no  earthly  store 

Wherewith  to  feed  my  poor: 
It  mattered  not ;   I'd  given  thee  my  gold. 
Where  is  it  now  ?     Look  at  that  pallid  brow, 

Sunk  in  its  weary  sleep  : 

The  furrows  are  too  deep  ; 


y£   DID  IT   NOT   TO  ME. 


91 


They  tell  the  tale  of  many  an  anxious  grief,  — 

Not  his.,  but  mine  !  j 

"  Whence  comes  the  wasting  of  that  haggard  ; 

cheek  ?  ■ 

The  guilt  is  thine.  1 
He   gave    me    all    his    time    and    strength    and 

health  : 
I  took  it,  and  then  asked  thee  for  thy  wealth,  — 
Thy  given  wealth  ;  asked  that  it  might  be  free. 

Held  in  thine  open-  hand  for  him  and  me.  I 

Then  came  the  years  of  conflict  and  of  toil,  ' 

The  days  of  labor  and  the  nights  of  prayer  ;  • 
Souls  perishing  in  sin, 

Few  hands  to  fetch  them  in  ;  i 

The  hungry  to  be  fed  ;  ' 

The  naked  to  be  clothed  ;  ■  | 

The  outcast  and  the  poor  ] 

Gathering  about  the  door.  •■ 

I  wanted  money,  and  I  wanted  bread  ;  i 

I  wanted  all  that  willing  hands  could  do  ;  ; 

I  wanted  the  quick  ear  and  ready  eye,  -; 

Ay,  and  the  deep,  true  soul  of  sympathy ;  \ 

I  wanted  help,  and  then  I  called  for  thee  :  j 

I  called  and  waited,  and  then  called  again.  \ 

Oh  !  could  it  be  that  I  should  call  in  vain  ?  1 

1  called  and  waited,  1 

And  thou  didst  not  come  !  "  1 


92  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

I  tried  to  hold  my  breath,  and  hear  him  speak  ; 
But  'twas  as  though  my  throbbing  heart  must 
break. 
I  could  not  lift  my  head ; 
I  could  not  sigh  : 
The  crimson  shame  had  burnt  into  my  cheek. 
I  had  no  tears  ;  the  very  fount  was  dry. 
Oh  !  it  was  long,  I  cannot  tell  how  long 

That  strange,  cold  stillness  ! 
But  I  felt  that  he  was  waiting  there,  — 

Waiting  for  me  to  speak. 
I  knelt  upon  the  floor,  and  breathed  his  name  : 
Then,  struggling,  one  by  one   the  faint  words 
came,  — 
"  Jesus,  I  thotigJit  I  loved  thee  : 

I  remember  well 
That  day  when  thou  didst  hold 
My  trembling  fingers  in  thy  pierced  hand, 
And  take  me  for  thine  own. 

"And  I  did  love  thee  ; 

This  poor  heart  beat  true  : 
It  was  no  fancied  echo  when  the  voice 
That  spoke  thee  mine 

Responded,  '  I  am  thine  ! ' 
But,  O  my  Master  !  can  I  dare  to  tell. 
Thy  faithless  child  has  loved  thy  gifts  too  well  ? 


93 


y'£  DID  IT  XOT   TO  ME. 

I  looked  on  all  things  beautiful  and  rare,  — 

Looked  on  earth's  flowers, 

And  thought  them  very  fair. 
I  hid  me  from  the  rude  and  vulgar  throng, 

And  hoped  it  was  thy  will 
That  I  might  turn  away  from  common  men. 

And  love  thee  still. 
I  dwelt  among  the  pleasant  sounds  of  life  : 
I  did  not  like  the  turmoil  and  the  strife 

To  come  too  near. 
And  thou  wast  in  the  thickest  battle-tide 
When  thou  didst  call  thy  servant  to  thy  side  ; 

But  I  was  too  far  oft", 

And  so  I  did  not  hear. 


"  My  Lord,  I  will  come  nearer  ;   I  will  take  my 
seat 

Close  to  thy  feet  ; 
I  will  come  down  where  the  gray  shadows  lie, 
And  there  I'll  listen, — listen  every  day 

To  hear  thy  voice. 
It  may  be  I  must  take  a  lower  place  ; 
But  let  me  have  the  shining  of  thy  face. 
It  may  be  I  must  seek  a  humbler  home  ; 
Let  it  be  one  where  thou  wilt  often  come  : 
Its  door  shall  be  upon  the  latch  for  thee, 
And  for  the  needy  ones  who  claim 
An  interest  in  thv  name  ; 


94 


//VM.VS   OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 


And  I  will  stand  and  watch  and  wait  to  greet 
The  first  faint  echoes  of  thy  coming  feet." 

N.  Y.  Observer. 


A  Sacramental  Hymn-. 

HERE,  O  my  Lord!  I  see  thee  face  to  face  ; 
Here  would   I   touch  and  handle   things 
unseen  ; 
Here  grasp  with  firmer  hand  the  eternal  grace, 
And  all  my  weariness  upon  thee  lean. 

Here  would  I  feed  upon  the  bread  of  God, 
Here  drink  with  thee  the  royal  wine  of  heaven  ; 
Here  would  I  lay  aside  each  earthly  load, 
Here  taste  afresh  the  calm  of  sin  forgiven. 

I  have  no  help  but  thine,  nor  do  I  need 

Another  arm  save  thine  to  lean  upon  : 

It  is  enough,  my  Lord,  enough  indeed. 

My  strength  is  in  thy  might,  —  thy  might  alone. 

I  have  no  wisdom  save  in  Him  who  is 
My  Wisdom  and  my  Teacher  both  in  one  : 
No  wisdom  can  I  lack  while  thou  art  wise  ; 
No  teaching  do  I  crave,  save  thine  alone. 


THE  HOLY  CATHOLIC  CHURCH. 


95 


Mine  is  the  sin,  but  thine  the  righteousness  ; 
Mine  is  the  guilt,  but  thine  the  cleansing  blood. 
This  is  my  robe,  my  refuge,  and  my  peace,  — 
Thy  blood,  thy  righteousness,  O  Lord  my  God! 

Too  soon  we  rise  ;  the  symbols  disappear  ; 
The  feast,  but  not  the  love,  is  passed  and  gone ; 
The  bread  and  wine  remove  ;  but  thou  art  here, 
Nearer  than  ever,  —  still  my  shield  and  sun. 

Feast  after  feast  thus  comes  and  passes  by. 
Yet,  passing,  points  to  the  great  feast  above  ; 
Giving  sweet  foretastes  of  the  festal  joy,  — 
The  Lamb's  great  bridal  feast  of  bliss  and  love. 

HORATIUS    BONAK. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church. 

JERUSALEM,  my  happy  home, 
When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 
Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 

O  happy  harbor  of  the  saints  ! 

O  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ! 
In  thee  no  sorrow  may  be  found  ; 

No  irrief,  no  care,  no  toil. 


9 6  HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

There  lust  and  lucre  cannot  dwell ; 

There  envy  bears  no  sway  ; 
There  is  no  hunger,  heat,  nor  cold, 

But  pleasure  every  way. 

Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stones  ; 

Thy  bulwarks,  diamonds  square  ; 
Thy  gates  are  of  right  Orient  pearl, 

Exceeding  rich  and  rare. 

Thy  turrets  and  thy  pinnacles 

With  carbuncles  do  shine  ; 
Thy  very  streets  are  paved  with  gold. 

Surpassing  clear  and  fine. 

Ah  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem 
Would  God  I  were  in  thee  ! 

Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 
Thy  joys  that  I  might  see  ! 

Thy  saints  are  crowned  with  glory  great 
They  see  God  face  to  face  ; 

They  triumph  still ;  they  still  rejoice  : 
Most  happy  is  their  case. 

We  that  are  here  in  banishment 

Continually  do  moan  : 
We  sigh  and  sob  ;  we  weep  and  wail  ; 

Perpetually  we  groan. 


97 


.     THE  HOLY  CATHOLIC   CHURCH. 

Our  sweet  is  mixed  with  bitter  gall ; 

Our  pleasure  is  but  pain  ; 
Our  joys  scarce  last  the  looking-on  ; 

Ouf  sorrows  still  remain. 

But  there  they  live  in  such  delight, 
Such  pleasure,  and  such  play, 

As  that  to  them  a  thousand  years 
Doth  seem  as  yesterday. 


Thy  gardens  and  thy  gallant  walks 

Continually  are  green : 
There  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

Quite  through  the  streets,  with  silver  sound, 

The  flood  of  life  doth  flow  ; 
Upon  whose  banks,  on  every  side, 

The  wood  of  life  doth  grow. 

There  trees  forevermore  bear  fruit. 

And  evermore  do  spring; 
There  evermore  the  angels  sit, 

And  evermore  do  sing. 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home, 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee  ; 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see  ! 

7  F.  B.  p. 


gS  HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE.      , 

When    I  awake,  I  am  still  with  Thee. 

STILL,  still  with  Thee,  when  purple  morning 
breaketh, 
When  the  bird  waketh  and  the  shadows  flee  : 
Fairer   than    morning,    lovelier   than    the    day- 
light, 
Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness,  "/  am  with 
Thee  !  " 

Alone  with  Thee  amid  the  mystic  shadows, 
The  solemn  hush  of  Nature  newly  born  ; 

Alone  with  Thee  in  breathless  adoration 
In  the  calm  dew  and  freshness  of  the  morn. 

As  in  the  dawning  o'er  the  waveless  ocean 
The  image  of  the  morning-star  doth  rest, 

So  in  this  stillness  Thou  beholdest  only 
Thine  image  in  the  waters  of  my  breast. 

Still,  still   with    Thee  !     As    to   each   new-born 
morning 
A  fresh  and  solemn  splendor  still  is  given, 
So  doth  this  blessed  consciousness,  awaking, 
Breathe,  each  day,  nearness  unto  Thee  and 
heaven. 


THE  MASTER'S  INVITATION. 


99 


When  sinks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil,  to  slum- 
ber, 

Its  closing  eye  looks  up  to  Thee  in  prayer  : 
Sweet  the  repose  beneath  the  wings  o'ershading, 

But  sweeter  still  to  wake  and  find  Thee  there. 

So  shall  it  be  at  last,  in  that  bright  morning 
When  the  soul  waketh,  and  Hfe's  shadows  flee : 

Oh,  in  that  hour,  fairer  than  daylight  dawning, 

Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,  "/  am  with 

Thee!'' 

Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 


The  Master's  Invitation. 

DEAR  Lord,  thy  table  is  outspread  : 
What  other  could  such  feast  afford .'' 
And  thou  art  waiting  at  the  head  ; 
But  I  am  all  unworthy,  Lord  : 
Yet  do  I  hear  thee  say, 

(Was  ever  love  so  free  ?) 
"  Come  hither,  son,  to-day, 
And  sit  and  sup  with  me." 

O  Master  !   I  am  full  of  doubt ; 

My  heart  with  sin  and  fear  defiled  : 


>         HVMXS  OF  THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Come  thou,  and  cast  the  Tempter  out, 
And  make  me  as  a  little  child. 
Methinks  I  hear  thee  say, 

"  Come  thou  at  once,  and  see 
What  love  can  take  awa}-, 
And  what  confer  on  thee." 

My  Lord,  to  thee  I  fain  would  go, 

Yet  tarry  now,  I  know  not  why  : 

Speak,  if  to  tell  what  well  I  know,  — 

That  none  are  half  so  vile  as  I. 

What  do  I  hear  thee  say  ?  — 

"  Look,  trembling  one,  and  see 
These  tokens,  which  to-day 
Tell  what  I  did  for  thee." 

Nay,  Lord  !  I  could  not  here  forget 

What  thou  didst  for  my  ransom  give, 
The  garden  prayer,  the  bloody  sweat  ; 
All  this,  and  more,  that  I  might  live. 
I  hear  thee  sadly  say, 

"  If  this  remembered  be, 
Why  linger  thus  to-day  1 

Why  doubt  and  question  me  ?  " 

Oh  love  to  angels  all  unknown  ! 

I  turn  from  sin  and  self  aside  : 
Thou  hast  the  idol  self  o'erthrown  ; 

I  onlv  see  the  Crucified  : 


SITTING  AT   THE   FEET  OF  JESUS.       loi 

I  only  hear  thee  say, 

"A  feast  is  spread  for  thee 

On  this  and  every  day, 
If  thou  but  follow  me." 

A.  D.  F.  Randolph. 


Sitting  at  the  Feet  of  Jesus. 

SITTING  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
Oh,  what  words  I  hear  him  say ! 
Happy  place  !  so  near,  so  precious  ! 
May  it  find  me  there  each  day  ! 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
I  would  look  upon  the  past ; 

For  his  love  has  been  so  gracious. 
It  has  won  my  heart  at  last. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  : 
Where  can  mortal  be  more  blest  ? 

There  I  lay  my  sins  and  sorrows, 
And,  when  weary,  find  sweet  rest. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
I  would  wait  my  way  to  see  ; 

Leaning,  trusting,  and  confiding. 
Since  he  orders  all  for  me. 


I02         HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 

Holy  happiness  I  find  : 
In  the  secret  of  his  presence 

He  reveals  to  me  his  mind. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 

There  I  love  to  weep  and  pray, 

While  I  from  his  fulness  gather 
Grace  and  comfort  every  day. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 

I  would  choose  that  better  part, 

Flee  from  earthly  cares  and  pleasures, 
While  I  tell  him  all  my  heart. 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
I  there  learn  his  will  divine  ; 

See  his  smile,  and  catch  his  sweetness. 
As  he  whispers,  "  Thou  art  mine." 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
I  would  pray  to  be  kept  there  : 

Clothed  and  hidden,  washed,  forgiven, 
I  may  lay  aside  all  fear. 

Bless  me,  O  my  Saviour !  bless  me, 

As  I  sit  low  at  thy  feet : 
Oh  !  look  down  in  love  upon  me  ; 

Let  me  see  thy  face  so  sweet. 


THE  FELLOWSHIP  OF  SUFFERING. 

Give  me,  Lord,  the  mind  of  Jesus  ; 

Make  me  holy  as  he  is  : 
May  I  prove  I've  been  with  Jesus, 

Who  is  all  my  righteousness  ! 

J.  H. 


The  Fellowship  of  Suffering. 

THY  cruel  crown  of  thorns  ! 
But  where,  O  Lord  !  is  mine  ? 
Are  there  for  me  no  scoffs  and  scorns, 
Since  only  such  were  thine  ? 

Or,  having  named  thy  name. 
Shall  1  no  burden  take  ? 
And  is  there  left  no  thorn,  no  shame, 
To  suffer  for  thy  sake  ? 

Unscourged  of  any  whip, 
Unpierced  of  any  sting,  — 
O  Lord,  how  faint  my  fellowship 

With  thy  sad  suffering  ! 

Yet  thy  dread  sacrifice 
So  fills  my  soul  with  woe. 
That  all  the  fountains  of  mine  eyes 
WeH  up  and  overflow. 


103 


I04         HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

The  spear  that  pierced  thy  side 
Gave  wounds  to  more  than  thee  : 
Within  my  soul,  O  Crucified  ! 
Thy  cross  is  laid  on  me. 

And  as  thy  rocky  tomb 
Was  in  a  garden  fair, 
Where  round  about  stood  flowers  in  bloom, 
To  sweeten  all  the  air  : 

So,  in  my  heart  of  stone, 
I  sepulchre  thy  death  ; 
While  thoughts  of  thee,  like  roses  blown. 
Bring  sweetness  in  their  breath. 

Arise  not,  O  my  Dead  ! 
As  one  whom  Mary  sought. 
And  found  an  empty  tomb  instead, 
Her  spices  all  for  nought. 

O  Lord  !  not  so  depart 
From  my  enshrining  breast ; 
But  lie  anointed  in  a  heart 
That  by  thy  death  is  blest. 

Or,  if  thou  shalt  arise, 
Abandon  not  thy  grave. 
But  bear  it  with  thee  to  the  skies,  — 
A  heart  that  thou  shalt  save. 

Theodore  Tiltcn. 


the  throne  of  grace.        ■   105 

The  Throne  of  Grace. 

THERE  is  a  spot  of  consecrated  ground 
Where   brightest   hopes   and   hohest  joys 
are  found  : 
"Tis  named  (and  Christians  love  the  well-known 
sound) 

The  throne  of  grace. 

'Tis  here  a  calm  retreat  is  always  found  : 
Perpetual  sunshine  gilds  the  sacred  ground  ; 
Pure  airs  and  heavenly  odors  breathe  around 
The  throne  of  grace. 

While    on    this  vantage-ground   t'le    Christian 
stands, 

His    quickened    eye    a    boundless    view    com- 
mands ; 

Discovers  fair  abodes  not  made  with  hands, — 
Abodes  of  peace. 

Terrestrial  objects,  disenchanted  there. 
Lose  all  their  power  to  dazzle  or  insnare  : 
One  only  object  then  seems  worth  our  care, — 
To  win  the  race. 

This  is  the  mount  where  Christ's  disciples  see 
The  glory  of  incarnate  Deity  : 
'Tis  here  they  find  it  good  indeed  to  be, 
And  view  his  face. 


Io6         HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

A  new  creation  here  begins  to  rise,  — 
Fruits  of  the  Spirit,  flowers  of  Paradise, 
Watered  from  heaven,  in  full  and  sure  supplies, 
By  streams  of  grace. 

Towards  this  blest  spot  the  Spirit  bends  his  ear. 
The  fervent  prayer,  the  contrite  sigh,  to  hear ; 
To  bid  the  mourner  banish  every  fear. 
And  go  in  peace. 

Here  may  the  comfortless  and  weary  find 
One  who  can  cure  the  sickness  of  the  mind  ; 
One  who  delights  the  broken  heart  to  bind, — 
The  Prince  of  Peace. 

Saviour  !  the  sinner's  friend,  our  hope,  our  all ! 
Here  teach  us  humbly  at  thy  feet  to  fall  ; 
Here  on  thy  name  with  love  and  faith  to  call 
For  pardoning  grace. 

Ne'er  let  the  glory  from  this  spot  remove. 
Till,  numbered  with  thy  ransomed  flock  above. 
We  cease  to  want,  but  never  cease  to  love. 
The  throne  of  grace. 

Miss  Charlotte  Elliott. 


PERFECTION 


Perfection. 


107 


OH,  how  the  thought  of  God  attracts 
And  draws  the  heart  from  earth, 
And  sickens  it  of  passing  shows 
And  dissipating  mirth  ! 

'Tis  not  enough  to  save  our  souls  ; 

To  shun  the  eternal  fires  : 
The  thought  of  God  will  rouse  the  heart 

To  more  sublime  desires. 

God  only  is  the  creature's  home. 
Though  long  and  rough  the  road  ; 

Yet  nothing  less  can  satisfy 
The  love  that  longs  for  God. 

Oh  !  utter  but  the  name  of  God 
Down  in  your  heart  of  hearts. 

And  see  how  from  the  world  at  once 
All  tempting  light  departs, 

A  trusting  heart,  a  yearning  eye, 

Can  win  their  way  above  : 
If  mountains  can  be  moved  by  faith, 

Is  there  less  power  in  love  ? 


Io8  HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

How  little  of  that  road,  my  soul, 
How  little,  hast  thou  gone  ! 

Take  heart,  and  let  the  thought  of  God 
Allure  thee  farther  on. 

The  freedom  from  all  wilful  sin, 
The  Christian's  daily  task,  — 

Oh  !  these  are  graces  far  below 
What  longing  love  would  ask. 

Dole  not  thy  duties  out  to  God  ; 

But  let  thy  hand  be  free  : 
Look  long  at  Jesus  :  his  sweet  blood  — 

How  was  it  dealt  to  thee  ? 

The  perfect  way  is  hard  to  flesh  : 

It  is  not  hard  to  love. 
If  thou  wert  sick  for  want  of  God, 

How  swiftly  wouldst  thou  move  ! 

Good  is  the  cloister's  silent  shade. 
Cold  watch,  and  pining  fast ; 

Better  the  mission's  wearing  strife, 
If  there  thy  lot  be  cast. 

Yet  none  of  these  perfection  needs  : 
Keep  thy  heart  calm  all  day, 

And  catch  the  words  the  Spirit  there 
From  hour  to  hour  may  say. 


DRA  IV  ME    TO    THEE.  1 09 

Oh  !  keep  thy  conscience  sensitive  ; 

No  inward  token  miss  ; 
And  go  where  grace  entices  thee  : 

Perfection  lies  in  this. 

Be  docile  to  thine  unseen  Guide  ; 

Love  him  as  he  loves  thee  : 
Faith  and  obedience  are  enough, 

And  thou  a  saint  shalt  be. 

B'aber. 


Dr^vw  Me  to  Thee. 

Xo  man  can   come   to  me,  except  the   Father,  which   hath 
sent  me,  draw  him." — John  vi.  44. 

LORD,  weak  and  impotent  I  stand, 
As  fettered  by  an  unseen  hand  : 
Break  thou  the  strong  and  subtle  band, 
And  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

In  vain  I  struggle  to  be  free  ; 
I  would,  but  cannot^  fly  to  thee  : 
Ope  thou  the  prison-door  for  me, 
And  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

But  can  a  sinner  hope  to  be 

Thus  sweetly  drawn  and  bound  to  thee  ? 


HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Lord,  in  thy  Word  this  truth  I  see  : 
Then  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

Oh  !  bring  me  nearer,  nearer  still, 
That  thine  own  peace  my  soul  may  fill, 
And  I  may  rest  in  thy  sweet  will  : 
Lord,  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

Then  shall  my  heart  on  thee  repose, 
And  find  a  balm  for  all  life's  woes. 
When  thou  shalt  shield  from  all  my  foes, 
And  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

Here,  Lord,  I  would  forever  bide. 

And  never  wander  from  thy  side  : 

Beneath  thy  wings  do  thou  me  hide, 

And  draw  me  close  to  thee. 

M.  A.  w. 


Jesus,  the  Ladder  of  my  Faith. 

JESUS,  the  ladder  of  my  faith 
Rests  on  the  jasper-walls  of  heaven 
And  through  the  veiling  clouds  I  catch 
Faint  visions  of  the  mystic  Seven. 


THE  LADDER   OF  MY  FAITH.  Ill 

The  glory  of  the  rainbowed  throne 
Illumes  those  clouds  like  lambent  flame  ; 
As  once,  on  earth,  thy  love  divine 
Burned  through  the  robes  of  human  shame. 

Thou  art  the  same,  O  gracious  Lord  ! 
The  same  dear  Christ  that  thou  wert  then  ; 
And  all  the  praises  angels  sing 
Delight  thee  less  than  prayers  of  men. 

We  have  no  tears  thou  wilt  not  dry  ; 
We  have  no  wounds  thou  wilt  not  heal  ; 
No  sorrows  pierce  our  human  hearts 
That  thou,  dear  Saviour,  dost  not  feel. 

Thy  pity,  like  the  dew,  distils  ; 

And  thy  compassion,  like  the  light. 

Our  every  morning  overfills, 

And  crowns  with  stars  our  every  night. 

Let  not  the  world's  rude  conflict  drown 
The  charmed  music  of  thy  voice. 
That  calls  all  weary  ones  to  rest, 
And  bids  all  mourning  souls  rejoice. 

Harriet  McEwen  Kimball. 


112  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Prayer  against  the  Power  of  Sin. 

OH   that   Thou  wouldst  —  the   heavens 
rent  — 
In  majesty  come  down, 
Stretch  out  Thine  arm  omnipotent, 
And  seize  me  for  Tliine  own  ! 

Descend,  and  let  Thy  lightning  burn 

The  stubble  of  Thy  foe  ; 
My  sins  overturn,  o'erturn,  o'erturn. 

And  make  the  mountains  flow. 

Thou  my  impetuous  spirit  guide, 
And  curb  my  headstrong  will : 

Thou  only  canst  drive  back  the  tide, 
And  bid  the  sun  stand  still 

What  though  I  cannot  break  my  chain, 

Or  e'er  throw  off  my  load  .'^ 
The  things  impossible  to  men 

Are  possible  to  God. 

Is  there  a  thing  too  hard  for  thee, 

Almighty  Lord  of  all  ? 
Whose  threatening  looks  dry  up  the  sea, 

And  make  the  mountains  fall. 


PRA  YER. 

Who,  who  shall  in  thy  presence  stand, 

And  match  Omnipotence  ; 
Ungrasp  the  hold  of  thy  right  hand. 

Or  pluck  the  sinner  thence  ? 

Sworn  to  destro}',  let  earth  assail : 

Nearer  to  save  thou  art  ; 
Stronger  than  all  the  powers  of  hell 

And  greater  than  my  heart. 

Lo  !  to  the  hills  I  lift  mine  eye  ; 

Thy  promised  aid  I  claim  : 
Father  of  mercies,  glorify 

Thy  favorite  Jesu's  name. 

Salvation  in  that  name  is  found, 
Balm  of  my  grief  and  care  ; 

A  medicine  for  every  wound, 
All,  all  I  want  is  there. 

Jesu  !  Redeemer,  Saviour,  Lord, 
The  weary  sinner's  Friend, 

Come  to  my  help,  pronounce  the  word. 
And  bid  my  troubles  end. 

Deliverance  to  my  soul  proclaim, 

And  life  and  liberty  ; 
Shed  forth  the  virtues  of  thy  name, 

And  Jesus  prove  to  me. 


IT4 


HY'MXS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Faith  to  be  healed  thou  know'st  I  have  ; 

For  thou  that  faith  hast  given  : 
Thou  canst,  thou  wilt,  the  sinner  save, 

And  make  me  meet  for  heaven. 

Thou  canst  o'ercome  this  heart  of  mine  ; 

Thou  wilt  victorious  prove  : 
For  everlasting  strength  is  thine, 

And  everlasting  love. 

Thy  powerful  Spirit  shall  subdue 

Unconquerable  sin, 
Cleanse  this  foul  heart,  and  make  it  new. 

And  write  thy  law  within. 

Bound  down  with  twice  ten  thousand  ties, 

Yet,  let  me  hear  thy  call, 
My  soul  in  confidence  shall  rise,  — 

Shall  rise,  and  break  throu.gh  all. 

Speak,  and  the  deaf  shall  hear  thy  voice. 

The  blind  his  sight  receive. 
The  dumb  in  songs  of  praise  rejoice, 

The  heart  of  stone  believe. 

The  Ethiop  then  shall  change  his  skin. 
The  dead  shall  feel  thy  power. 

The  loathsome  leper  shall  be  clean, 
And  I  shall  sin  no  more. 

Charles  Weslky. 


TRUST.  115 


Trust. 

I    KNOW  not  if  or  dark  or  bright 
Shall  be  my  lot ; 
If  that  wherein  my  hopes  delight 
Be  best  or  not. 

It  may  be  mine  to  drag  for  years 

Toil's  heavy  chain  ; 
Or,  day  and  night,  my  meat  be  tears 

On  bed  of  pain. 

Dear  faces  may  surround  my  hearth 
With  smiles  and  glee  ; 

Or  I  may  dwell  alone,  and  mirth 
Be  strange  to  me. 

My  bark  is  wafted  on  the  strand 

By  breath  divine, 
And  on  the  helm  there  rests  a  hand 

Other  than  mine. 

One,  who  has  known  in  storms  to  sail, 

I  have  on  board  : 
Above  the  raving  of  the  gale 


I  have  my  Lord. 


Il6         HYMNS   OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

He  holds  me  when  the  billows  smite  : 

I  shall  not  fall. 
If  sharp,  'tis  short  ;  if  long,  'tis  light: 

He  tempers  all. 

Safe  to  the  land  !  —  safe  to  the  land  ! 

The  end  is  this  ; 
And  then  with  him  go  hand  in  hand 

Far  into  bliss. 

Dean  of  Canterbury. 


None  but  Thee. 

NOTHING  fair  on  earth  I  see 
But  I  straightway  think  on  Thee 
Thou  art  fairest  in  my  eyes. 
Source  in  whom  all  beauty  lies. 

When  I  see  the  reddening  dawn. 
And  the  golden  sun  of  morn. 
Quickly  turns  this  heart  of  mine 
To  Thy  glorious  form  divine. 

Oft  I  think  upon  Thy  light 

When  the  gray  morn  breaks  the  night ; 

Think  what  glories  lie  in  Thee, 


Light  of  all  eternity 


NONE   BUT   THEE. 


117 


When  I  see  the  moon  arise 
'Mid  heaven's  thousand  golden  eyes, 
Then  I  think,  "  More  glorious  far 
Is  the  Maker  of  each  star  ; " 

Or  I  think  in  Spring's  sweet  hours, 
When  the  fields  are  gay  with  flowers^ 
As  their  varied  lines  I  see, 
"  What  must  their  Creator  be  !  " 

When  along  the  brook  I  wander, 
And  beside  the  fountain  ponder. 
Straight  my  thoughts  take  wing,  and  mount 
Up  to  Thee,  the  purest  Fount. 

Sweetly  sings  the  nightingale  ; 
Sweet  the  flute's  soft,  plaintive  tale  : 
Sweeter  than  their  richest  tone 
Is  the  name  of  Mary's  Son. 

Sweetly  all  the  air  is  stirred 
When  the  echo's  call  is  heard ; 
But  no  sounds  my  heart  rejoice 
Like  to  my  Beloved's  voice. 

Come,  thou  fairest  Lord,  appear  ; 
Come,  let  me  behold  thee  near  : 
I  would  see  thee  face  to  face  ; 
Thy  perfect  image  I  would  trace. 


Il8  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Take  away  these  veils  that  blind, 
Jesu,  all  my  soul  and  mind : 
Henceforth,  ever  let  my  heart 
See  thee  truly  as  thou  art. 

Angelus. 


"  Not  !My  Will,  but  Thine,  be  done." 

OLORD  my  God  !  do  thou  thy  holy  will : 
I  will  lie  still ; 
I  will  not  stir,  lest  I  forsake  thine  arm, 

And  break  the  charm 
Which  lulls  me.  clinging  to  my  Fathers  breast. 
In  perfect  rest. 

Wild  Fancy,  peace  I  thou  must  not  me  beguile 

With  thy  false  smile  : 
I  know  thy  flatteries  and  thy  cheating  ways. 

Be  silent,  Praise  ! 
Blind  guide  with  siren  voice,  and  blinding  all 

That  hear  thy  call. 

Come,  Self-Devotion  high  and  pure  ; 
Thoughts  that  in  thankfulness  endure, 
Though  dearest  hopes  are  faithfess  found. 
And  dearest  hearts  are  bursting  round. 


THY   WILL    BE   DOXK 


19 


Come,  Resignation,  spirit  meek, 
And  let  me  kiss  thy  placid  check, 
And  read  in  thy  pale  eye  serene 
Their  blessing  who  by  faith  can  wean 
Their  hearts  from  sense,  and  learn  to  love 
God  only  and  the  joys  above. 

They  say,  who  know  the  life  divine, 

And  upward  gaze  with  eagle  eyne. 

That  by  each  golden  crown  on  high. 

Rich  with  celestial  jewelry, 

Which  for  our  Lord's  redeemed  is  set. 

There  hangs  a  radiant  coronet, 

All  gemmed  with  pure  and  living  light, 

Too  dazzling  for  a  sinner's  sight, 

Prepared  for  virgin  souls,  and  them 

Who  seek  the  martyr's  diadem. 

Nor  deem,  who  to  that  bliss  aspire 

Must  win  their  w^ay  through  blood  and  fire 

The  writhings  of  a  wounded  heart 

Are  fiercer  than  a  foeman's  dart. 

Oft  in  life's  stillest  shade  reclining. 

In  desolation  unrepining. 

Without  a  hope  on  earth  to  find 

A  mirror  in  an  answering  mind, 

^Meek  souls  there  are,  who  little  dream 

Their  daily  strife  an  angel's  theme, 


I20         HYMNS  OF    THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Or  that  the  rod  they  take  so  calm 
Shall  prove  in  heaven  a  martyr's  palm. 

And  there  are  souls  that  seem  to  dwell 

Above  the  earth,  —  so  rich  a  spell 

Hoats  round  their  steps  where'er  they  move. 

From  hopes  fulfilled  and  mutual  love. 

Such,  if  on  high  their  thoughts  are  set, 

ISJor  in  the  stream  the  source  forget. 

If  prompt  to  quit  the  bliss  they  know, 

Following  the  Lamb  where'er  he  go. 

By  purest  pleasures  unbeguiled 

To  idolize  or  wife  or  child,  — 

Such  wedded  souls  our  God  shall  own 

For  faultless  virgins  round  his  throne. 

Thus  everywhere  we  find  our  suffering  God, 

And  where  he  trod 
May  set  our  steps.     The  cross  on  Calvary, 

Uplifted  high. 
Beams  on  the  martyr  hosts,  —  a  beacon-light 

In  open  fight. 

To  the  still  wrestlings  of  the  lonel);  heart 

He  doth  impart 
The  virtue  of  his  midnight  agony. 

When  none  was  nigh, 
Save  God  and  one  good  angel,  to  assuage 

The  tempest's  rage. 


THE   ROBE   OF  HOLINESS.  i  2  I 

Mortal,  if  life  smile  on  thee,  and  thou  find 

All  to  thy  mind. 
Think  who  did  once  from  heaven  to  hell  descend 

Thee  to  befriend  : 
So  shalt  thou  dare  forego,  at  his  dear  call, 

Thy  best,  thine  all. 

"  O  Father  !  not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done  :  " 

So  spake  the  Son. 
Be   this    our   charm,    mellowing   earth's    ruder 
noise 

Of  griefs  and  joys, 
That  we  may  cling  forever  to  thy  breast 

In  perfect  rest. 

John  Keble. 


The  Robe  of  Holiness. 

SOMETIMES   I  upward  lift  mine  eyes, 
And,  filled  with  pleasure,  see 
The  happy  hosts  that  throng  the  skies,  — 
The  blood- washed  company. 

"  How  beautiful  their  robes  !  "  I  say  ; 

"  Their  garments  all,  how  white  ! 
Fair  as  the  sun's  ascending  ray, 

And  clear  as  noonday  light." 


HVMXS  OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

O  Saviour  I  thou  hast  made  them  clean, 
The  garments  that  they  wear  ; 

And  all  who  wash  in  thee  their  sin 
May  in  those  garments  share. 

I,  too,  may  wear  that  spotless  dress  ; 

Its  beauty  I  may  prove  : 
It  is  the  robe  of  holiness, 

The  dress  of  perfect  love. 

Pkof.  T.  C.  Upham. 


A  Closer  Walk  with  God. 

("The  Christian  Intelligencer"  introduced  to  its  readers  this 
beautiful  hymn,  which  first  appeared  in  its  columns,  with  these 
appropriate  remarks  :  "There  is  no  doubt  that  Cowper's  hymn, 
'  Oh  for  a  closer  walk  with  God  ! '  presents  a  phase  of  Christian 
experience  that  is  common,  although  so  far  from  the  true  Scrip- 
ture standard  of  spiritual  life,  which  declares  it  to  be  that  of 
'the  shining  light,  growing  brighter  attd  brighter  mito  the  per- 
fect day.'  There  are  many  Christians,  however, — and,  God  be 
praised  !  their  number  is  rapidly  increasing,  — who  have  learned 
that  declension,  doubts,  and  gloom  are  not  a  necessary  part  of 
Christian  experience  ;  that  spiritual  enjoyments  and  progress 
need  not  be  interrupted  :  and  yet  the  sincere,  honest  cry  of  the 
heart  is,  'Oh  for  a  closer  walk  with  God  !'  The  class  who 
cannot  tridhfjdly  sing  the  whole  of  Cowper's  hymn  will  find  the 
following  paraphrase,  by  a  lady,  more  perfectly  to  express  their 
experiences  and  aspirations  ") 


A    CLOSE Ji    U^ALK    WITH   GOD.  123 

OH  for  a  closer  walk  with  God, 
A  higher,  holier  frame, 
A  brighter  light  upon  the  road 
That  leads  me  to  the  Lamb  ! 

Rich  blessedness  e'en  now  I  know. 

In  converse  with  the  Lord  : 
Soul-quickening  views  are  granted  me 

Of  Jesus  and  his  word. 

Ikit  there  are  lengths  and  breadths  of  love 

My  spirit  would  attain, 
Deep  things  of  God  that  I  would  search, 

Heights  that  I  long  to  gain. 

And  I  would  have  this  soul  of  mine 
Made  clean  and  pure  within,  — 

My  Saviour's  chosen  dwelling-place, 
Free  from  all  taint  of  sin. 

The  work  is  thine,  O  holy  Dove  ! 

I  gladly  welcome  thee  : 
Come  in,  blest  Spirit  of  the  Lord  ! 

Possess  both  mine  and  me. 

Thou  knowest  all ;  thou  canst  do  all  ; 

Bring  captive  every  thought 
In  swift  obedience  to  His  will 

Whose  blood  my  peace  hath  bought. 


124 


HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Thus  henceforth  'tis  no  longer  I, 
But  Christ  that  dwells  in  me  : 

To  win  me  'wholly  for  his  own, 
He  died  upon  the  tree. 

So  shall  my  walk  be  close  with  God 
Calm  and  serene  my  frame  ; 

And  heavenly  glory  gild  the  road 
I  journey  with  the  Lamb. 


I 


Self-Consecration. 

T  grieves  me,  Lord,  it  grieves  me  sore, 

That  I  have  lived  to  thee  no  more, 
And  wasted  half  my  days. 
My  inward  powers  shall  burn  and  flame 
With  zeal  and  passion  for  thy  name  : 
I  would  not  speak  but  for  my  God,  nor  move 
but  to  his  praise. 

What  are  my  eyes  but  aids  to  see 
The  glories  of  the  Deity, 

Inscribed  with  beams  of  light 
On  flowers  and  stars  '^.     Lord,  I  behold 
The  shining  azure,  green  and  gold  ; 
But,  when  I   try  to  read  thy  name,  a  dimness 
veils  my  sight. 


SELF-COXSECRA  TION.  125 

Mine  ears  are  raised  when  Virgil  sings 
Sicilian  swains  or  Trojan  kings, 

And  drink  the  music  in  : 
Why  should  the  trumpet's  brazen  voice 
Or  oaten  reed  awake  my  joys, 
And  yet   my  heart  so  stupid  lie  when  sacred 
hymns  begin  ? 

Change  me,  O  God  !    My  flesh  shall  be 
An  instrument  of  song  to  thee, 
And  thou  the  notes  inspire  ; 
My  tongue  shall  keep  the  heavenly  chime, 
My  cheerful  pulse  shall  beat  the  time. 
And  sweet  variety  of  sound  shall  in  thy  praise 
conspire. 

The  dearest  nerve  about  my  heart. 
Should  it  refuse  to  bear  a  part 
With  my  melodious  breath, 
I'd  tear  away  the  vital  chord, 
A  bloody  victim  to  my  Lord, 
And  live  without  that  impious  string,  or  show 
my  zeal  in  death. 

Isaac  Watts. 


126         HVM.VS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 


Take  me,  O  my  Father  !  take  me. 

TAKE  me,  O  my  Father  !  take  me, 
Take  me,  save  me,  through  thy  Son 
That  which  thou  wouldst  have  me,  make  me 
Let  thy  will  in  me  be  done. 

Long  from  thee  my  footsteps  straying, 
Thorny  proved  the  way  I  trod  : 

Weary  come  I  now,  and  praying  ; 
Take  me  to  thy  love,  my  God. 

Fruitless  years  with  grief  recalling, 

Humbly  I  confess  my  sin  : 
At  thy  feet,  O  Father  !  falling, 

To  thy  household  take  me  in. 

Freely  now  to  thee  I  proifer 

This  relenting  heart  of  mine  ; 
Freely  life  and  soul  I  offer,  — 

Gift  unworthy  love  like  thine. 

Once  the  world's  Redeemer,  dying, 

Bore  our  sins  upon  the  tree: 
On  that  sacrifice  relying, 

Now  !  look  in  hope  to  thee. 


THE    WAY.  127 

Father,  take  me  ;  all  forgiving, 
Fold  me  to  thy  loving  breast : 

In  thy  love  forever  living, 
I  must  be  forever  blest. 

Ray  Palmer. 


The  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life. 

THOU  art  the  Way! 
All  ways  are  thorny  mazes  without  Thee  : 
Where  hearts  are  pierced,  and  thoughts  all  aim- 
less stray. 
In  Thee  the  heart  stands  firm,  the  life  moves 
free  : 

Thou  art  the  Way  ! 

Thou  art  the  Truth  ! 
Questions  the  ages  break  against  in  vain 
Confront  the  spirit  in  its  untried  youth  ; 
It  starves  while  learning  poison  from  the  grain  : 

Thou  art  the  Truth  ! 

Thou  art  the  Truth  ! 
Truth  for  the  mind,  grand,  glorious,  infinite  ; 
A  heaven  still  boundless  o'er  its  highest  growth  ; 
Bread  for  the  heart,  its  daily  need  to  meet : 

Thou  art  the  Truth  ! 


128  Hi'MXS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

Thou  art  the  Light  I 
Earth  beyond  earth  no  faintest  ray  can  give  ; 
Heaven's  shadeless  noontide  blinds  our  mortal 

sight ; 
In  Thee  we  look  on  God,  and  love  and  live  : 

Thou  art  the  Light  ! 

Thou  art  the  Rock  ! 
Doubts   none  can  solve    heave    wild  on    every 

side, 
Wave   meetins:  wave  of  thought   in    ceaseless 

shock  ; 
On  Thee  the  soul  rests  calm  amidst  the  tide  : 
Thou  art  our  Rock  I 

Thou  art  the  Life  ! 
All  ways  without  Thee,  paths  that  end  in  death  ; 
All  life  without  Thee  with  Death's  harvest  rife  ; 
All    truths   dry  bones,   disjoined,   and  void   of 
breath : 

Thou  art  the  Life  ! 

For  Thou  art  Love  ! 
Our  Way  and  End  !  the  way  is  rest  with  Thee  ; 
O  living  Truth  !  the  truth  is  life  in  Thee  ; 
O  Life  essential !  life  is  bliss  with  Thee  : 

For  Thou  art  Love  I 

Author  of  "The  Cotta  Family." 


IN  HIM   IV E  LIVE.       ■                   729  I 

J 

In  Him  we  live.  ' 

I    KNOW  thou  art  not  far,  1 

My  God,  from  me  :  yon  star  : 

Speaks  of  thy  nearness,  and  its  rays  ; 
Fall  on  me  hke  thy  touch.     Oh  !  raise 
These  eyes  of  mine 

To  see  thy  face,  —  even  thine,  ^ 
My  Father  and  my  God  ! 

Thou  speakest,  and  I' hear  :  j 

What  gracious,  heavenly  cheer  1 

Is  in  thy  gentle  speech,  my  God  !  , 

How  it  lifts  off  the  heavy  load  \ 

Which  bows  my  weary  head,  ! 

And  checks  me  in  my  speed,  ; 

My  gracious  God  and  Lord  !  ] 

i 

Thou  knowest  all  I  am,  ■ 

My  evil  and  my  shame  ;  i 

And  yet  thou  hat'st  me  not,  ] 

Nor  hast  even  once  forgot  i 

Thy  handiwork  divine,  | 

This  helpless  soul  of  mine,  j 

Mv  ever-loving  Lord  !  j 

I 

Thou  wilt  be  nearer  yet ;  J 

And  one  dav  I  shall  get  I 


HYMXS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

The  fuller  vision  of  thy  face, 
In  all  its  perfect  light  and  grace, 
When  I  shall  see  thee  as  thou  art, 
And  in  thy  kingdom  bear  my  part, 

My  blessed  King  and  God  I 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 


To  Yonder  Side. 

Luke  viii.  22-25, 

BEHIND  the  hills  of  Naphtali 
The  sun  went  slowly  down, 
Leaving  on  mountain,  tower,  and  tree 
A  tinge  of  golden  brown. 

The  cooling  breath  of  evening  woke 

The  waves  of  Galilee, 
Till  on  the  shore  the  waters  broke 

In  softest  melody. 

"Now  launch  the  bark,"  the  Saviour  cried, 
The  chosen  Twelve  stood  by,  — 

'•And  let  us  cross  to  yonder  side. 
Where  the  hills  are  steep  and  high." 


TO    YOXDER   SIDE. 


13^ 


Quietly  o'er  the  water  she  creeps, 
While  the  swelling  sail  they  spread  ; 

And  the  wearied  Saviour  gently  sleeps, 
With  a  pillow  'neath  his  head. 

On  downy  bed  the  world  seeks  rest ; 

Sleep  flies  the  guilty  eye  : 
But  He  who  leans  on  the  Father's  breast 

May  sleep  when  storms  are  nigh. 

But  soon  the  lowering  sky  grew  dark 

O'er  Bashan's  rocky  brow  : 
The  storm  rushed  down  upon  the  bark, 

And  waves  dashed  o'er  the  prow. 

The  pale  disciples  trembling  spake, 
Wliile  yawned  the  watery  grave, 

''We  perish,  Master  !     Master,  wake  ! 
Carest  thou  not  to  save  ?  " 

Calmly  he  rose  with  sovereign  will. 
And  hushed  the  storm  to  rest : 

"Ye  waves,"  he  whispered,  "peace!  be  still 
They  calmed  like  a  pardoned  breast. 

So  have  I  seen  a  fearful  storm 

O'er  wakened  sinner  roll, 
Till  Jesus'  voice  and  Jesus'  form 

Said,  "  Peace,  thou  weary  soul  I  " 


132 


HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 


And  now  he  bends  his  gentle  eye 

His  wondering  followers  o'er: 
"Why  raise  this  unbelieving  cry? 

I  said,  To  yonder  shoi'e?'' 

When  first  the  Saviour  wakened  me, 

And  showed  me  why  he  died, 
He  pointed  o'er  Life's  narrow  sea, 

And  said,  "  To  yonder  side. 

"  I  am  the  ark  where  Noah  dwelt. 

And  heard  the  deluge  roar  : 
No  soul  can  perish  that  has  felt 

My  rest.  —  To  yonder  shored 

Peaceful  and  calm  the  tide  of  life 

When  first  I  sailed  with  thee  ; 
My  sins  forgiven,  no  inward  strife, 

My  breast  a  glassy  sea. 

But  soon  the  storm  of  passion  raves  ; 

My  soul  is  tempest-tost ; 
Corruptions  rise  like  angry  waves  : 

"  Help,  Master  !     I  am  lost  !  " 

"  Peace,  peace  !  be  still,  thou  raging  breast ! 

My  fulness  is  for  thee." 
The  Saviour  speaks,  and  all  is  rest 

Like  the  waves  of  Galilee. 


THUS    WOULD  I  LIVE. 

And  now  I  feel  this  holy  eye 
Upbraids  my  heart  of  pride  : 

"  Why  raise  this  unbelieving  cry  ? 
I  said,  To  yonder  side  J'' 

Robert  Murray  McChevm 


L 


Thus  would  I  live. 

ORD,  I  desire  to  live  as  one 
Who  bears  a  blood-bought  name 


As  one  who  fears  but  grieving  thee, 
And  knows  no  other  shame  ; 


As  one  by  whom  thy  walk  below 

Should  never  be  forgot ; 
As  one  who  fain  would  keep  apart 

From  all  thou  lovest  not. 

1  want  to  live  as  one  who  knows 

Thy  fellowship  of  love  ; 
As  one  whose  eyes  can  pierce  beyond 

The  pearl-built  gates  above  ; 

As  one  who  daily  speaks  to  thee, 
And  hears  thy  voice  divine 

With  depths  of  tenderness  declare, 
"  Beloved  !  thou  art  mine." 


134         HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

I  want  to  walk  as  one  who  knows 
The  guilt  that  lurks  w^ithin. 

Yet  trusts,  in  humble  faith,  that  blood 
Which  cleanses  from  all  sin  ; 

To  dwell  more  near  my  Saviour's  face 

Than  ever  yet  before  ; 

To  lean  upon  his  loving  breast, 

And  own  him  Conqueror. 

J.  H. 


Union  with  Christ. 

THEY  love  their  blessed  Leader.  Not  more 
close 

The  branches  cling  unto  the  parent  tree 

Than  are  his  followers  bound  to  Christ.  They 
loose, 

Like  him,  their  hold  on  earthly  things.  They 
free 

Their  hearts  from  the  strong  bonds  of  selfish- 
ness. 

And  yield  for  general  good  their  private  weal. 

Where'er  is  want,  despondency,  distress, 

They  have  the  hand  to  toil,  the  heart  to  feel. 

'Tis  thus  the  Saviour  taught  them.  They  are 
one 


PANTING  FOR   DIVINE   LOVE. 


135 


With  him,  and  in  their  souls  his  image  bear, 

Rejoicing  in  the  hkeness.     As  the  sun 

Doth  spread  his  radiance  through  the  fields  of 

air, 
And  kindle  in  revolving  stars  his  blaze. 
He  pours  upon  their  hearts  the  splendor  of  his 

l''iys-  Prof.  T.  C.  Upham. 


Panting  for  Divine  Love. 

OLOVE  divine,  how  sweet  thou  art ! 
When  shall  I  find  my  willing  heart 
All  taken  up  by  thee  ? 
I  thirst  and  faint  and  die  to  prove 
The  greatness  of  redeeming  love,  — 
The  love  of  Christ  to  me. 

Stronger  his  love  than  death  or  hell ; 
Its  riches  are  unsearchable  : 

The  first-born  sons  of  light 
Desire  in  vain  its  depth  to  see  ; 
They  cannot  reach  the  mystery. 

The  length  and  breadth  and  height. 


God  only  knows  the  love  of  God 

Oh  that  it  now  were  shed  abroad 

In  this  poor  stony  heart ! 


136         HYMNS  OF    THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

For  love  I  sigh,  for  love  I  pine  : 
This  only  portion,  Lord,  be  mine  ; 
Be  mine  this  better  part. 

Oh  that  I  could  forever  sit 
With  Mary  at  the  Master's  feet  I 

Be  this  my  happy  choice  ; 
My  only  care,  delight,  and  bliss, 
My  joy,  my  heaven  on  earth,  be  this, — 

To  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice. 

Oh  that,  with  humbled  Peter,  I 
Could  weep,  believe,  and  thrice  reply, 

My  faithfulness  to  prove  ! 
Thou  know'st  (for  all  to  thee  is  known). 
Thou  know'st,  O  Lord  !  and  thou  alone, 

Thou  know'st  that  thee  I  love. 

Oh  that  I  could,  with  favored  John, 
Recline  my  weary  head  upon 

The  dear  Redeemer's  breast  ! 
From  care  and  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Give  me,  O  Lord  !  to  find  in  thee 

My  everlasting  rest. 

Thy  only  love  do  I  require  ; 
Nothing  in  earth  beneath  desire, 
Nothing  in  heaven  above  : 


HUMBLE   SERVICE.  137 

Let  earlh  and  heaven  and  all  things  go  ; 
Give  me  thy  only  love  to  know  ; 
Give  me  thy  only  love. 

Charles  Wesley. 


Humble  Service. 

IT  is  an  easy  thing  to  say, 
"Thou  knowest  that  1  love  thee,  Lord 
And  easy  in  the  bitter  fray 
For  his  defence  to  draw  the  sword. 

But  when  at  his  dear  hands  we  seek 
Some  lofty  trust  for  him  to  keep, 
To  our  ambition,  vain  and  weak, 


"  Too  mean  a  task  for  love,"  we  cry  ; 
Remembering  not,  if  in  our  pride 
We  pass  his  humbler  service  by, 
Our  vows  are  by  our  deeds  denied. 

O  Father  !  help  us  to  resign 

Our  hearts,  our  strength,  our  wills,  to  thee  ; 

Then  even  lowliest  work  of  thine 

Most  noble,  blest,  and  sweet  will  be. 

Harriet  McEwcx  Kimball. 


138      hymns  of  the  higher  life. 

Forever  with  the  Lord. 

FOREVER  with  the  Lord! 
Amen  :  so  let  it  be  ! 
Life  from  the  dead  is  in  that  word, 
And  immortahty. 

Here  in  the  body  pent, 
Absent  from  him,  I  roam, 
Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home. 

My  Father's  house  on  high, 
Home  of  my  soul,  how  near 
At  times,  to  Faith's  far-seeing  eye. 
Thy  golden  gates  appea 


^ar 


Ah  !  then  my  spirit  faints 
To  reach  the  land  I  love, — 
The  bright  inheritance  of  saints, 
Jerusalem  above. 

Yet  clouds  will  intervene, 
And  all  my  prospect  flies  : 
Like  Noah's  dove,  I  flit  between 
Rough  seas  and  stormy  skies. 


SIMPLE    TRUST. 


139 


Anon  the  clouds  depart, 
The  winds  and  waters  cease, 
While  sweetly  o'er  my  gladdened  heart 
Expands  the  bow  of  peace. 

Beneath  its  glowing  arch, 
Along  its  hallowed  ground, 
I  see  cherubic  armies  march, 
A  camp  of  fire  around. 

I  hear  at  morn  and  even. 
At  noon  and  midnight  hour. 
The  choral  harmonies  of  heaven 
Earth's  Babel  tongues  o'erpower : 

Then,  then  I  feel  that  He, 
Remembered  or  forgot. 
The  Lord,  is  never  far  from  me, 
Though  I  perceive  him  not. 

James  Moxtgomeky. 


Simple  Trust. 
OTILL,  still,  without  ceasing, 

This  fervor  of  holy  desire  ; 


I  feel  it  increasing,  i 


140 


HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

And  often  exclaim, 
"  Let  me  die  in  the  flame 
Of  a  love  that  can  never  expire  !  " 

Had  I  words  to  explain 

What  she  must  sustain 
Who  dies  to  the  world  and  its  ways,  — 

How  joy  and  affright, 

Distress  and  delight. 
Alternately  checker  her  days,  — 

Thou  sweetly  severe  ! 

I  W'Ould  make  Thee  appear 
In  all  Thou  art  pleased  to  award, 

Not  more  in  the  sweet 

Than  the  bitter  I  meet, 
My  tender  and  merciful  Lord. 

This  faith  in  the  dark, 

Pursuing  its  mark 
Through  many  sharp  trials  of  love. 

Is  the  sorrowful  waste 

That  is  to  passed 
On  the  way  to  the  Canaan  above. 

Madame  Guyon. 


the  hidden  life.  14i 

The  Hidden  Life. 

TO  tell  the  Saviour  all  my  wants, 
How  pleasing  is  the  task  ! 
Nor  less  to  praise  him  when  he  grants 
Beyond  what  I  can  ask. 

My  laboring  spirit  vainly  seeks 

To  tell  but  half  the  joy  ; 
With  how  much  tenderness  he  speaks, 

And  helps  me  to  reply. 

Nor  were  it  wise,  nor  should  I  choose. 

Such  secrets  to  declare  : 
Like  precious  wines,  their  tastes  they  lose, 

Exposed  to  open  air. 

But  this  with  boldness  I  proclaim. 
Nor  care  if  thousands  hear, — 

Sweet  is  the  ointment  of  his  name  ; 
Nor  life  is  half  so  dear. 

And  can  you  frown,  my  former  friends, 
Who  knew  what  once  I  was, 

^\nd  blame  the  song  that  thus  commends 
The  Man  who  bore  the  cross  ? 


142         HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Trust  me,  I  draw  the  likeness  true, 
And  not  as  fancy  paints  : 

Such  honor  may  he  give  to  you  I 
For  such  have  all  his  saints. 

William  Cowper. 


The  Hour  of  Prayer. 

MY  God  I  is  any  hour  so  sweet, 
From  blush  of  morn  to  evening  star, 
As  that  W'hich  calls  me  to  thy  feet,  — 
The  hour  of  prayer  ^ 

Blest  be  the  tranquil  hour  of  morn, 
And  blest  that  hour  of  solemn  eve,   . 
When,  on  tlie  wings  of  prayer  upborne, 
The  world  I  leave. 

For  then  a  day-spring  shines  on  me, 
Brighter  than  morn's  ethereal  glow  ; 
And  richer  dews  descend  from  thee 
Than  earth  can  know. 

Then  is  my  strength  by  thee  renewed  ; 
Then  are  my  sins  by  thee  forgiven  ; 
Then  dost  thou  cheer  my  solitude 
With  hopes  of  heaven. 


THE  CANCELLED   BOXD.  1 43 

Words  cannot  tell  what  blest  relief 
Here  for  my  every  want  I  find  ; 
What  strength  for  warfare,  balm  for  grief; 
What  peace  of  mind. 

Hushed  is  each  doubt ;  gone  every  fear  ; 
My  spirit  seems  in  heaven  to  stay ; 
And  e'en  the  penitential  tear 
Is  wiped  away. 

Oh  !  till  I  reach  yon  peaceful  shore, 
No  privilege  so  dear  shall  be 
As  thus  my  inmost  soul  to  pour 
In  prayer  to  thee. 

Miss  Charlotte  Elliott. 


The  Cancelled  Bond. 

HE  gave  me  back  the  bond,  — 
It  was  a  heavy  debt ; 
And,  as  He  gave,  He  smiled,  and  said, 
"  Thou  wilt  not  Me  forget''' 

He  gave  me  back  the  bond,  — 
The  seal  was  torn  away  ; 
And,  as  He  gave,  He  smiled,  and  said, 
"  Think  thou  of  Me  alway.'' 


144 


HVMyS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

That  bond  I  still  will  keep, 

Although  it  cancelled  be  : 

1 1  tells  me  what  I  owe  to  Him 

^^'ho  paid  the  debt  for  me. 

I  look  on  it,  and  smile  ; 
I  look  again,  and  weep  : 
This  record  of  His  love  to  me 
Forever  will  I  keep. 

A  bo}id  it  is  no  more  ; 
But  it  shall  ever  tell 
That  all  I  ow'ed  was  fully  paid 
Bv  mv  Emmanuel. 


Hear  my  Cry. 

O   STRONG  to  save  and  bless. 
My  Rock  and  Righteousness  ! 
Draw  near  to  me  : 
Blessing  and  joy  and  might, 
Wisdom  and  love  and  light. 
Are  all  with  thee. 

My  Refuge  and  my  Rest ! 
As  child  on  mother's  breast, 
I  lean  on  thee. 


HEAR  MY  CRY. 

From  faintness  and  from  fear, 
When  foes  and  ill  are  near, 
Deliver  me. 

Turn  not  away  thy  face  ; 
Withhold  not  needed  grace  ; 

My  fortress  be. 
Perils  are  round  and  round  ; 
Iniquities  abound  : 

See,  Saviour  !  see  ! 

Come,  God  and  Saviour,  come  ! 
I  can  no  more  be  dumb  ; 

Appeal  I  must 
To  thee,  the  gracious  One, 
Else  is  my  hope  all  gone, 

I  sink  in  dust  ! 

Oh,  answer  me,  my  God  ! 
Thy  love  is  deep  and  broad  ; 

Thy  grace  is  true  : 
Thousands  this  grace  have  shared  ; 
Oh  !  let  me  now  be  heard  ; 

Oh  !  love  me  too. 

Descend,  thou  mighty  Love,  — 
Descend  from  heaven  above  ; 
Fill  thou  this  soul ; 


145 


146         NVMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Heal  every  bruised  part, 
Bind  up  this  broken  heart, 
And  make  me  whole. 

'Tis  knowing  thee  that  heals  ; 
'Tis  seeing  thee  that  seals 

Comfort  and  peace. 
Show  me  thy  cross  and  blood, 
My  Saviour  and  my  God, 

Then  troubles  cease. 

HORATIUS    BONAR. 


Glory  to  God  alone. 

O   LOVED  !  but  not  enough,  though  dearer 
far 
Th:in  self  and  its  most  loved  enjoyments  are  : 
None  duly  loves  thee,  but  who,  nobly  free 
From  sensual  objects,  iinds  his  all  in  thee. 

Glory  of  God  !  thou  stranger  here  below. 
Whom    man  nor   knows,   nor  feels   a  wish    to 

know  : 
Our  faith  and  reason  are  both  shocked  to  find 
Man  in  the  post  of  honor,  thee  behind. 


GLORY   TO   GOD   ALONE. 


147 


Reason  exclaims,  "  Let  every  creature  fall, 
Ashamed,  abased,  before  the  Lord  of  all  I  "' 
And  Faith,  overwhelmed  with  such  a  dazzling 

blaze, 
Feebly  describes  the  beauty  she  surveys. 

Yet  man,  dim-sighted  man,  and  rash  as  blind, 
Deaf  to  the  dictates  of  his  better  mind, 
In  frantic  competition  dares  the  skies. 
And  claims  precedence  of  the  Onh'-Wise. 

Oh  lost  in  vanity  till  once  self-known  ! 
Nothing  is  great  or  good  but  God  alone  : 
When  thou  shalt  stand  before  his  awful  face. 
Then,  at  the  last,  thy  pride  shall  know  its  place. 

Glorious  Almighty,  first,  and  without  end  I 

When  v.'ilt  thou  melt  the  mountains,  and  de- 
scend .^ 

When  wilt  thou  shoot  abroad  thy  conquering 
rays, 

And  teach  these  atoms,  thou  hast  made,  thy 
praise  ? 

Thy  glory  is  the  sweetest  heaven  I  feel ; 
And,  if  I  seek  it  with  too  fierce  a  zeal. 
Thy  love,  triumphant  o'er  a  selfish  will. 
Taught  me  the  passion,  and  inspires  it  sdll. 


148         //yjfXS   OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

My  renson,  all  my  faculties,  unite 
To  make  thy  glory  my  supreme  delight  : 
Forbid  it,  Fountain  of  my  brightest  days. 
That  I  should  rob  thee,  and  usurp  thy  praise  I 

My  soul,  rest  happy  in  thy  low  estate. 
Nor  hope  nor  wish  to  be  esteemed  or  great : 
To  take  the  impression  of  a  will  divine  — 
Be  that  thy  glory,  and  those  riches  thine. 

Confess  him  righteous  in  his  just  decrees  ; 
Love  what  he  loves,  and  let  his  pleasure  please ; 
Die  daily  ;  from  the  touch  of  sin  recede  ; 
Then   thou   hast  crowned  him,   and  he   reigns 
indeed. 

Madame  Guyox. 


Rejoicing  ix  Hope. 

I    KNOW  that  my  Redeemer  lives 
And  ever  prays  for  me  : 
A  token  of  his  love  he  gives, 
A  pledge  of  liberty. 

I  find  him  lifting  up  my  head  ; 

He  brings  salvation  near; 
His  presence  makes  me  free  indeed, 

And  he  will  soon  appear. 


REJOICING  IN  HOPE.  149 

He  wills  that  I  should  holy  be  : 
What  can  withstand  his  will  ? 

The  counsel  of  his  grace  in  me 
He  surely  shall  fulfil. 

Jesus,  I  hang  upon  thy  word : 

I  steadfastly  believe 
Thou  wilt  return  and  claim  me,  Lord, 

And  to  thyself  receive. 

Joyful  in  hope,  my  spirit  soars 

To  meet  thee  from  above  ; 
Thy  goodness  thankfully  adores  ; 

And  sure  I  taste  thy  love. 

Thy  love  I  soon  expect  to  find 
In  all  its  depth  and  height  ; 

To  comprehend  the  Eternal  Mind, 
And  grasp  the  Infinite. 

When  Christ  doth  in  my  heart  appear, 
And  Love  erects  its  throne, 

I  then  enjoy  salvation  here. 

And  heaven  on  earth  begun. 

When  God  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 

Of  Paradise  possest, 
I  taste  unutterable  bliss 

And  everlasting  rest. 


50         HVMXS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

The  bliss  of  those  that  fully  dwell, 

Fully  in  thee  believe, 
'Tis  more  than  angel-tongues  can  tell 

Or  angel-minds  conceive. 

Thou  only  know'st  who  didst  obtain, 
And  die  to  make  it  known  : 

The  great  salvation  now  explain. 
And  perfect  us  in  one. 

May  I,  may  all  who  huuibly  wait. 
The  glorious  joy  receive,  — 

Joy  above  all  conception  great, 
Worthy  of  God  to  give  ! 

Lord,  I  believe,  and  rest  secure 

In  confidence  divine  : 
Thy  promise  stands  forever  sure. 

And  all  thou  art  is  mine. 

Charles  Wesley. 


The  Voyage. 

"TPWAS  lovely  all,  — this  glorious  earth, 
J-     With  sunny  garniture  of  bloom  : 

I  walked  in  light  and  beauty  forth. 
And  well-nigh  had  forgot  the  tomb. 


THE    VOYAGE.  151 

Well-nigh,  alas  !     There  was  a  breath 
Of  poison  on  the  summer  air ; 

And  life  and  joy,  disease  and  death. 

Seemed  often,  strangely,  blending  there, 

And  whispered  tones  of  coming  ill  : 
Ah  me  !   I  could  not  choose  but  hear 

That  life  was  but  a  gliding  rill, 

And  death's  dark  waves  were  rolling  neiir. 

Which  way  to  fly?     That  murmuring  stream 
Was  music  to  my  spell-bound  ears  : 

I  strove  as  in  a  midnight  dream, 

Pleasant,  but  still  disturbed  with  fears. 

I  strove  and  conquered,  broke  the  spell, 
And  asked  again  wliich  way  to  fly  ; 

Turned  from  the  path  that  leads  to  hell. 
But  saw  no  other  pathway  nigh. 

Far  off  upon  the  distant  sea 

There  lay  a  bark  of  wondrous  size  : 

With  canvas  spread,  she  seemed  to  be 
A  cloud  upon  the  summer-skies. 

A  waving  flag,  of  crimson  fold. 
Circled  the  lofty  topmast  round  : 

Upon  it  blazed,  inwrought  with  gold, 

These  cheering  words,  "  For  Zion  bound." 


55- 


IIYMXS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

For  Zion  bound,  that  bark  had  borne 
Its  thousands  to  a  happier  shore  ; 

And  though  'twas  old,  and  sadly  worn, 
I  knew  'twould  bear  its  thousands  more. 

I  stretched  my  arms  :  they  saw  me  there. 
Half  deluged  by  the  driving  spray  ; 

They  lowered  a  boat  with  anxious  care. 
And  made  the  shore  whereon  I  lay. 

Just  then  a  little  shallop  passed, 

With  trim  white  sails  and  pennons  gay  : 

Mount  Zion,  too,  was  on  her  mast, 

As  o'er  the  waves  she  winged  her  way. 

"  Take  me  !  "  I  cried  with  frantic  wail, 
As  down  upon  the  breeze  she  bore  : 

They  turned  her  helm,  and  shifted  sail. 
And  ran  her  close  along  the  shore. 

"  On  board  !  "  they  cried  :  "  we  run  a  race 
For  Zion's  port ;  and,  close  beside, 

A  thousand  boats  are  on  the  chase, 
While  we  are  losing  wind  and  tide." 

With  eager  haste  I  seized  a  hand 

That  quickly  drew  me  from  the  shore  : 

I  only  thought  of  Zion's  land  ; 
Of  life,  —  of  life  forevermore. 


THE    VOYAGE. 


153 


Ah  !  beautiful  it  was  to  fly 

So  like  an  eagle  in  the  air  ; 
To  pass  the  shore  so  quickly  by, 

And  dream  that  we  were  almost  there  ; 

To  dream  the  passage  would  be  short  : 
Alas  !  it  seemed  not  thus  to  me. 

We  touched  along  from  port  to  port, 
But  seldom  ventured  out  to  sea. 

We  would  not  run  our  race  in  vain, 

But  snatched  the  good  each  moment  brings. 

And  made  our  godliness  a  gain 
By  bartering  it  for  earthly  things.- 

Our  colors  floated  on  the  breeze 
With  Zion's  flag  of  crimson  glow  ; 

But  colors  too,  diverse  from  these. 
Were  floatinir  o'er  our  decks  below. 


We  sang  the  songs  of  Zion's  hill ; 

On  holy-days  our  raptures  told 

But  often  anchored  where  the  chil 


And  there  our  earthly  love  prevailed, 
Till  hushed  at  last  was  Zion's  song  ; 

And  e'en  the  port  for  which  we  sailed 
No  longer  seemed  to  urge  us  on. 


154 


HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 


All  things  to  us  were  lawful  then, 
All  things  expedient  and  divine,  — 

To  buy  and  sell  the  souls  of  men, 
And  lay  them  on  our  Moloch  shrine  ; 

To  tamper  thus  with  earthly  dross, 
To  wear  its  tinsel  bright  and  gay, 

Till  every  vestige  of  the  cross 
Had  faded  from  the  soul  away. 

One  night  —  alas  !  can  I  forget 
The  horrors  of  that  awful  night. 

When  billows  washed  our  reeling  deck, 
And  storm- winds  blew  with  fearful  might  ? 

"  Unlade  the  ship  !  "    The  trumpet-tone 
Above  the  bellowing  tempest  roared  : 

"  Bring  forth  your  treasures,  every  one, 
And  quickly  cast  them  overboard." 

We  brought  our  merchandise  of  souls, 
And  cast  it  on  the  foaming  wave  : 

Back  on  itself  the  billow  rolls, 
And  opens  wide  a  watery  grave. 

We  brought  our  treasures  with  a  sigh, 
Our  earthly  treasures,  one  by  one  : 

They  turned  to  bubbles  ;  floated  by, 
Upon  the  angry  surges  borne. 


THE    VOYAGE. 


155 


One  moment  more,  —  a  moment  brief,  — 
And,  clinging  to  that  sea-washed  deck, 

The  storm-wind  bore  us  to  a  reef. 

Where  all  was  cast,  a  shapeless  wreck. 

All,  all  was  gone  !  each  beam  and  spar  ! 

'Twas  then  we  raised  our  failing  eyes, 
And  saw,  amid  the  clouds  afar, 

A  ray  of  starlight  in  the  skies. 

And  just  beneath  this  cheering  ray, 
Far  down  upon  the  troubled  sea, 

We  saw  that  ship  that  in  the  bay 
So  old  and  worn  appeared  to  be. 

On,  on  her  course,  with  sails  unfurled. 
She  like  a  spirit  seemed  to  glide, 

While  mountain- waves  were  o'er  her  hurled, 
And  breakers  roared  on  either  side. 

"  Save  us  !  we  perish  !  "  —  loud  the  cry 
That  rose  above  the  tempest's  wail ; 

While  through  the  mist  we  strained  our  eye 
To  watch  that  swiftly-gliding  sail. 

"  Fear  not ;  'tis  I  !  "     The  ocean  spray 
A  moment  spread  its  misty  pall ; 

The  next  upon  the  deck  we  lay. 

Saved,  saved  at  last,  but  stripped  of  all. 


156  HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

The  Storm  is  past,  and  sunliglit  steals 
Along  the  waters  bright  and  free, 

And  to  the  eye  of  faith  reveals 
The  land  that  lies  beyond  the  sea. 

We  pause  no  more  to  fling  our  gold 
For  pebbles  on  the  nearest  strand, 

But  keep  our  wealth,  of  price  untold. 
And  lay  it  up  for  Canaan's  land. 

And  should  the  storms  again  o'erwhelm 
Our  bark  upon  Life's  changing  sea. 

If  Jesus  holds  our  vessel's  helm. 
The  storm  and  calm  alike  shall  be. 

High  on  the  raging  billows  borne. 
Or  sweetly  wafted  o'er  the  deep. 

Alike  to  us  the  calm  or  storm. 

If  Israel's  guard  our  watch  shall  keep. 

And  when  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord 
With  singing  unto  Zion  come, 

And  every  harp,  from  every  chord. 

Shall  shout  the  pilgrim's  welcome  home 

When,  far  beyond  the  billow's  roar, 

The  hidden  rock,  the  treacherous  sand, 

We  furl  our  sails,  and  hail  the  shore. 
The  verdant  shore,  of  Zion's  land,  — 


A    HE  A  VENL  Y  BREEZE. 


157 


Oh  !  then  we'll  sing  of  dangers  past, 
Of  toils  that  made  our  bliss  complete, 

That  brought  our  crowns  and  palms  at  last 
As  trophies  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 

Mrs.  Mary  Maxwell. 


A  Heavenly  Breeze. 

T  T  comes,  it  comes  !   I  know  not  why  : 
^      The  wings  of  love  divine  surround  me 
And  God  is  stooping  from  on  high 
To  shed  the  air  of  heaven  around  me. 

It  brings  a  calm,  a  Christ-like  peace, 
'Mid  inward  music  sweetly  flowing  ; 

It  whispers,  "  Free  and  sovereign  grace 
This  heavenly  breeze  is  now  bestowing.'' 

I  feel  it,  aye,  most  mild  and  sweet, 

In  fragrant  waves  now  gliding  o'er  me  : 

It  circles  round  my  heart's  retreat, 
And  fans  away  the  mists  before  me. 

It  is  not  fancy  that  deludes  ; 

'Tis  no  impulsive  flight  of  feeling; 
'Tis  no  illusion  that  intrudes  ; 

But  'tis  the  Holy  Spirit's  sealing  I 


158 


HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 


Come,  Holy  Spirit !  waft  along 

A  constant  breeze  to  breathe  around  me  ; 
And  let  me  hear  the  seraphs'  song 

While  heavenly  atmospheres  surround  me. 

Still  let  me  have  this  lamb-like  frame, 

And  bask  amid  thy  beams  bright  shining, 

And  feel  thy  love's  encircling  flame, 
My  heart  with  thine  in  union  twining. 

So  shall  I  dwell  in  heaven  below  ; 

On  me  thy  full  salvation  pouring : 
On  "eagle's  wings  "  to  God  I'll  go, 

And  fall  before  his  throne  adorin<r. 


The  Gospel  in  the  Lord's  Supper. 

NO  gospel  like  this  feast 
Spread  for  thy  Church  by  Thee  : 
Nor  prophet  nor  evangelist 
Preach  the  glad  news  so  free. 

Picture  and  parable  ! 

All  truth  and  love  divine, 
In  one  bright  point  made  visible. 

Hence  on  the  heart  thev  shine  : 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER.      * 

All  our  redemption  cost ; 

All  our  redemption  won  ; 
All  it  has  won  for  us,  the  lost ; 

All  it  cost  Thee,  the  Son. 

Thine  was  tlie  bitter  price, 
Ours  is  the  free  gift  given  ; 

Thine  was  the  blood  of  sacrifice, 
Ours  is  the  wine  of  heaven. 


For  thee  the  burning  thirst. 
The  shame,  the  mortal  strife, 

The  broken  heart,  the  side  transpierce: 
To  us  the  Bread  of  Life. 

To  tliee  our  curse  and  doom 

Wrapped  round  thee  with  our  sin, 

The  horror  of  that  mid-day  gloom, 
The  deeper  night  within  ; 

To  us  thy  home  in  light, 

Thy  '•  Come,  ye  blessed,  come  !  " 
Thy  bridal  raiment  pure  and  white, 

Tliy  Father's  welcome  home. 

Here  we  would  rest  midway, 

As  on  a  sacred  height, 
That  darkest  and  that  brightest  day 

Meetins:  before  our  sisfht  ; 


159 


6o         HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

From  that  dark  depth  of  woes 

Thy  love  for  us  hath  trod, 
Up  to  the  heights  of  blest  repose 

Thy  love  prepares  with  God  ; 

Till,  from  self's  chains  released, 

One  sight  alone  we  see  ; 
Still  at  the  cross,  as  at  the  feast, 

Behold  thee,  —  only  thee. 

Author  of  "The  Cotta  Family. 


Love  to  Christ,  Present  or  Absent. 

OF  all  the  joys  we  mortals  know, 
Jesus,  thy  love  exceeds  the  rest ; 
Love,  the  best  blessing  here  below. 
And  nearest  image  of  the  blest. 

Sweet  are  my  thoughts,  and  soft  my  cares, 
When  the  celestial  flame  I  feel : 
In  all  my  hopes  and  all  my  fears 
There's  something  kind  and  pleasing  still. 

While  I  am  held  in  his  embrace, 
There's  not  a  thought  attempts  to  rove  : 
Each  smile  he  wears  upon  his  face 
Fixes  and  charms  and  fires  my  love. 


LOVE    TO   CHRIST.  i6l 

He  speaks,  and  straight  immortal  joys 
Run  through  my  ears,  and  reach  my  heart : 
My  soul  all  melts  at  that  dear  voice, 
And  pleasure  shoots  through  every  part. 

If  he  withdraw  a  moment's  space. 
He  leaves  a  sacred  pledge  behind  : 
Here  in  this  breast  his  image  stays, 
The  grief  and  comfort  of  my  mind. 

While  of  his  absence  I  complain. 
And  long  and  weep  as  lovers  do. 
There's  a  strange  pleasure  in  the  pain; 
And  tears  have  their  own  sweetness  too. 

When  round  his  courts  by  day  I  rove, 
Or  ask  the  watchman  of  the  night 
For  some  kind  tidings  of  my  love. 
His  very  name  creates  delight. 

Jesus,  my  God  :  yet  rather  come  ; 
Mine  eyes  would  dwell  upon  thy  face  : 
'Tis  best  to  see  my  Lord  at  home. 
And  feel  the  presence  of  his  grace. 

Isaac  Watts. 


t62       hymns  of  the  higher  life. 

The  Alpine  Sheep. 

AFTER  our  child's  untroubled  breath 
Up  to  the  Father  took  its  way, 
And  on  our  home  the  shade  of  death, 
Like  a  long,  misty  twilight,  lay, 

And  friends  came  round  with  us  to  weep 
Her  little  spirit's  swift  remove, 
This  story  of  the  Alpine  sheep 
Was  told  to  us  by  one  we  love  :  — 

"They,  in  the  valley's  sheltering  care, 
Soon  crop  the  meadow's  tender  prime  , 
And,  when  the  sod  grows  brown  and  bare, 
The  shepherd  strives  to  make  them  climb 

"  To  airy  shelves  of  pastures  green 
That  hang  along  the  mountain's  side, 
Where  grass  and  flowers  together  lean. 
And  down  through  mist  the  sunbeams  slide. 

"  But  nought  can  tempt  the  timid  things 
That  steep  and  rugged  path  to  try, 
Though  sweet  the  shepherd  calls  and  sings, 
And  seared  below  the  pastures  lie, 

"  Till  in  his  arms  their  lambs  he  takes. 
Along  the  dizzy  verge  to  go  ; 
Then,  heedless  of  the  lifts  and  breaks, 
They  follow  on  o'er  rocks  and  snow ; 


REA'OU.VCI.VG    THE    WORLD.  163 

"And  in  those  pastures  lit'ted  fair, 
More  dewy  soft  than  lowland  mead, 
The  shepherd  drops  his  tender  care, 
And  sheep  and  lambs  together  feed." 

This  parable,  by  Nature  breathed, 
Blew  on  me  as  the  south  wind  free 
O'er  frozen  brooks  that  float  unsheathed 
From  icy  thraldom  to  the  sea. 

A  bhssful  vision  through  the  night 
Would  all  my  happy  senses  sway,  — 
Of  the  Good  Shepherd  on  the  height, 
Or  climbing  up  the  stony  way, 

Holding  our  little  lamb  asleep  ; 
And  like  the  burden  of  the  sea 
Sounded  that  voice  along  the  deep, 
Saying,  "Arise,  and  follow  me." 

Mrs.  Maria  Lowell. 


RENOU^XING   THE    WoRLD. 

COME,  my  fond,  fluttering  heart ; 
Come,  struggle  to  be  free  : 
Thou  and  the  world  must  part. 
However  hard  it  be. 


164 


HVMYS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

My  trembling  spirit  owns  it  just, 
But  cleaves  yet  closer  to  the  dust. 

Ye  tempting  sweets,  forbear  ; 

Ye  dearest  idols,  fall  : 
My  love  ye  must  not  share  ; 
Jesus  shall  have  it  all. 
'Tis  bitter  pain,  'tis  cruel  smart ; 
But,  ah  !  thou  must  consent,  my  heart. 

Ye  fair,  enchanting  throng, 

Ye  golden  dreams,  farewell ! 
Earth  has  prevailed  too  long. 
And  now  I  break  the  spell : 
Ye  cherished  joys  of  former  years  — • 
Jesus,  forgive  these  parting  tears  ! 

But  must  I  part  with  all  ? 

My  heart  still  fondly  pleads  : 
Yes,  Dagon's  self  must  fall  ; 
It  beats,  it  throbs,  it  bleeds. 
Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  found 
To  soothe  and  heal  the  smarting  wound  ? 

Oh,  yes  I  there  is  a  balm, 

A  kind  Physician,  there, 
My  fevered  mind  to  calm. 

To  bid  me  not  despair  : 


''SURELY  I  COME   QUICKLY r  165 

Aid  me,  dear  Saviour,  set  me  free, 
And  I  will  all  resign  to  thee. 

Oh,  may  I  feel  thy  worth, 

And  let  no  idol  dare. 
No  vanity  of  earth, 

With  thee,  my  Lord,  compare  ! 
Now  bid  all  worldly  joys  depart, 
And  reign  supremely  in  my  heart. 

J.  Taylor. 


"  Surely  I  come  Quickly." 

I    SOJOURN  in  a  vale  of  tears  : 
Alas  !  how  can  I  sing  ? 
My  harp  doth  on  the  willows  hang, 
Distuned  in  every  string. 

My  music  is  a  captive's  chains  ; 

Harsli  sounds  my  ears  do  till  : 
How  shall  I  sing  sweet  Zion's  song 

On  this  side  Zion's  hill  ? 

Yet,  lo  !   I  hear  a  joyful  sound,  — 

"  Surely  I  quickly  come  :  " 
Each  word  much  sweetness  doth  distil, 

Like  a  full  honeycomb. 


1 66  HVMXS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

And  dost  thou  cojne,  my  dearest  Lord  ? 

And  dost  thou  surely  come  ? 
And  dost  thou  surely  qiiickly  come  ? 

Methinks  I  am  at  home  ! 

jMy  Jesus  is  gone  up  to  heaven 

To  get  a  place  for  me  ; 
For  'tis  his  will,  that,  where  he  is, 

There  should  his  servants  be. 

Canaan  I  view  from  Pisgah's  top, 
Of  Canaan's  grapes  1  taste  : 

My  Lord,  who  sends  unto  me  here, 
Will  send  for  vie  at  last. 

I  have  a  God  that  changeth  not : 
Why  should  I  be  perplext  ? 

My  God,  that  owns  me  in  this  world, 
Will  own  me  in  the  next. 

Go  fearless  then,  my  soul,  with  God 

Into  another  room*; 
Thou  who  hast  walked  with  him  here. 

Go,  see  thy  God  at  home. 

My  dearest  friends  they  dwell  above  ; 

Them  will  I  go  to  see  : 
And  all  my  friends  in  Christ  below 

Will  soon  come  after  me. 


JESUS.  167 

Fear  not  the  trump's  earth-rending  sound  ; 

Dread  not  the  day  of  doom  : 

For  he  that  is  to  be  the  Judge 

Thy  Saviour  is  become. 

John  Mason. 


Jesus. 

JESUS,  I  love  thy  charming  name  ; 
'Tis  music  to  mine  ear  : 
Fain  would  I  sound  it  out  so  loud, 
That  earth  and  heaven  should  hear. 

Yes,  thou  art  precious  to  my  soul ; 

My  transport  and  my  trust : 
Jewels  to  thee  are  gaudy  toys, 

And  gold  is  sordid  dust. 

All  my  capacious  powers  can  wish 

In  thee  doth  richly  meet ; 
Nor  to  mine  eyes  is  light  so  dear, 

Nor  friendship  half  so  sweet. 

Thy  grace  still  dwells  upon  my  heart, 
And  sheds  its  fragrance  there  ; 

The  noblest  balm  of  all  its  wounds, 
The  cordial  of  its  care. 


1 68         HYMNS   OF    THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

I'll  speak  the  honors  of  thy  name 
With  my  last  laboring  breath  ; 

Then,  speechless,  clasp  thee  in  mine  arms, 
The  antidote  of  death. 

Philip  Doddk  dge. 


The  Rest  from  Sin. 

LORD,  I  believe  a  rest  remains 
To  all  thy  people  known  ; 
A  rest  where  pure  enjoyment  reigns, 
And  thou  art  loved  alone  ; 

A  rest  where  all  our  soul's  desire 

Is  fixed  on  things  above  ; 
Where  doubt  and  pain  and  fear  expire, 

Cast  out  by  perfect  love  ; 

A  rest  of  lasting  joy  and  peace, 

Where  all  is  calm  within  ; 
'Tis  there  from  our  own  works  we  cease. 

From  pride  and  self  and  sin. 

Our  spirit  right,  our  heart  is  clean, 

Our  nature  is  renewed  : 
We  cannot  —  no,  we  cannot  —  sin  ; 

For  we  are  born  of  God. 


THE   REST  FROM  SIN.  169 

From  every  evil  motive  freed, 
(The  Son  hath  made  us  free,) 

On  all  the  powers  of  hell  we  tread. 
In  glorious  liberty. 

Redeemed,  we  walk  on  holy  ground  ; 

In  Christ  we  cannot  err  : 
No  lion  in  that  way  is  found  ; 

No  ravenous  beast  is  there. 

Safe  in  the  way  of  life,  above 
Death,  earth,  and  hell  we  rise  : 

We  find,  when  perfected  in  love. 
Our  long-sought  paradise. 

Within  that  Eden  we  retire  ; 

We  rest  in  Jesu's  name  : 
It  guards  us  as  a  wall  of  fire, 

And  as  a  sword  of  flame. 

Oh  that  I  now  the  rest  might  know, 

Beheve,  and  enter  in  ! 
Now,  Saviour,  now,  the  power  bestov/. 

And  let  me  cease  from  sin. 

Remove  this  hardness  from  my  heart, 

This  unbelief  remove  ; 
To  me  the  rest  of  faith  impart. 

The  sabbath  of  thy  love. 


I/}'J!XS  OF    THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

I  groan  from  sin  to  be  set  free, 

From  self  to  be  released  : 
Oh  !  take  me,  take  me,  into  thee, 

Mine  everlasting  Rest. 

I  would  be  thine,  —  thou  know'st  I  would, 
And  have  thee  all  mine  own  : 

Thee,  O  mine  all-sufficient  Good  ! 
I  want,  and  thee  alone. 

Thy  name  to  me,  thy  nature,  grant  ; 

This,  only  this,  be  given  : 
Nothing  besides  my  God  I  want, — . 

Nothing  in  earth  or  heaven. 

Come,  O  my  Saviour  !  come  away  ; 

Into  my  soul  descend  : 
No  longer  from  thy  creature  stay, 

My  Author  and  my  End. 

The  bliss  thou  hast  for  me  prepared 

No  longer  be  delayed  : 
Come,  my  exceeding  great  Reward, 

For  whom  I  first  was  made. 

Come,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

And  seal  me  thine  abode  : 
Let  all  I  am  in  thee  be  lost ; 

Let  all  be  lost  in  God  ! 

Chari.e=;  Wesley. 


ge  thsema  xe.  1 7  i 

Gethsemane. 

JESUS,  while  he  dwelt  below, 
As  divine  historians  say, 
To  a  place  would  often  go  ; 
Near  to  Kedron's  brook  it  lay  : 
In  this  place  he  loved  to  be. 
And  'twas  named  Gethsemane. 

'Twas  a  garden,  as  we  read. 

At  the  foot  of  Olivet, 

Low,  and  proper  to  be  made 

The  Redeemers  lone  retreat : 

When  from  noise  he  would  be  free, 

Then  he  sought  Gethsemane. 

Thither,  by  their  Master  brought, 
His  disciples  likewise  came  ; 
There  the  heavenly  truths  he  tauglit 
Often  set  their  hearts  on  flame  : 
Therefore  they,  as  well  as  he, 
Visited  Gethsemane. 

Oft  conversing  here  they  sat, 
Or  might  join  with  Christ  in  prayer  : 
Oh  !  what  blest  devotion  that. 
When  the  Lord  himself  is  there  ! 
y\ll  things  thus  did  there  agree 
To  endear  Gethsemane. 


1^2         HVMXS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Full  of  love  to  man's  lost  race, 
On  the  conflict  much  he  thought : 
This  he  knew  the  destined  place, 
And  he  loved  the  sacred  spot ; 
Therefore  Jesus  chose  to  be 
Often  in  Gethsemane. 

Came  at  length  the  dreadful  night : 
Vengeance,  with  its  iron  rod, 
Stood,  and  with  collected  might 
Bruised  the  harmless  Lamb  of  God  ! 
See,  my  soul  !  thy  Saviour  see, 
Prostrate  in  Gethsemane  ! 

View  him  in  that  oHve-press, 

Wrung  with  anguish,  whelmed  with  blood 

Hear  him  pray  in  his  distress, 

With  strong  cries  and  tears,  to  God  ; 

Then  reflect  what  sin  must  be, 

Gazing  on  Gethsemane. 

Gloomy  garden,  on  thy  beds. 
Washed  by  Kedron's  water-pool. 
Grow  most  rank  and  bitter  weeds  : 
Think  on  these,  my  soul,  my  soul  ! 
Wouldst  thou  Sin's  dominion  flee. 
Call  to  mind  Gethsemane. 


GETHSEMAXE. 


173 


Eden,  from  each  flowery  bed. 

Did  for  man  short  sweetness  breathe  : 

Soon,  by  Satan's  counsel  led, 

Man  wrought  sin,  and  sin  wrought  death 

But  of  life  the  healing  tree 

Grows  in  rich  Gethsemane. 


Hither.  Lord,  thou  didst  resort 
Ofttimes  with  thy  little  train  ; 
Here  wouldst  keep  thy  private  court 
Oh  !  confer  that  grace  again  ; 
Lord,  resort  with  worthless  me 
Ofttimes  to  Gethsemane. 

True,  I  can't  deserve  to  share 
In  a  favor  so  divine  ; 
But,  since  sin  first  fixed  thee  there, 
None  have  greater  sins  than  mine  ; 
And  to  this,  my  woful  plea, 
Witness  thou,  Gethsemane  I  — 

Sins  against  a  holy  God, 
Sins  against  his  righteous  laws. 
Sins  against  his  love,  his  blood. 
Sins  against  his  name  and  cause,  — 
Sins  immense  as  is  the  sea  : 
Hide  me,  O  Gethsemane  ! 


74 


HY'MNS  OF  THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Saviour  !  all  the  stone  remove 
From  my  flinty,  frozen  heart  ; 
Thaw  it  with  the  beams  of  love, 
Pierce  it  with  thy  mercy's  dart ; 
Wound  the  heart  that  wounded  thee  ; 
Break  it  in  Gethsemane. 

Joseph  Hart. 


A  Meditation  in  Sickness. 

WHEN  languor  and  disease  invade 
This  trembling  house  of  clay, 
'Tis  sweet  to  look  beyond  our  cage, 
And  long  to  fly  away  ; 

Sweet  to  look  inward,  and  attend 

The  whispers  of  His  love  ; 
Sweet  to  look  upward  to  the  place 

Where  Jesus  pleads  above  ; 

SAveet  to  look  back,  and  see  my  name 
In  Life's  fair  book  set  down  ; 

Sweet  to  look  forward,  and  behold 
Eternal  joys  my  own  ; 

Sweet  to  reflect  how  grace  divine 

My  sins  on  Jesus  laid  ; 
Sweet  to  remember  that  his  blood 

My  debt  of  sufferings  paid  ; 


A    M EDIT  A  riON  IN  SICKNESS. 

Sweet  on  his  righteousness  to  stand. 
Which  saves  from  second  death  ; 

Sweet  to  experience,  day  by  day, 
His  Spirit's  quickening  breath  ; 

Sweet  on  his  faithfuhiess  to  rest. 
Whose  love  can  never  end  ; 

Sweet  on  his  covenant  of  grace 
For  all  things  to  depend  ; 

Sweet,  in  the  confidence  of  faith, 
To  trust  his  firm  decrees  ; 

Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  his  hand, 
And  know  no  will  but  his  ; 

Sweet  to  rejoice  in  lively  hope, 

That,  when  my  change  shall  come, 

Angels  will  hover  round  my  bed, 
And  waft  my  spirit  home. 

Then  shall  my  disimprisoned  soul 

Behold  him,  and  adore  ; 
Be  with  his  likeness  satisfied, 

And  grieve  and  sin  no  more  : 

Shall  see  him  wear  that  very  flesh 
On  which  my  guilt  was  lain  ; 

His  love  intense,  his  merit  fresh, 
As  though  but  newly  slain. 


175 


iy6         //VMXS  OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

Soon,  too,  my  slumbering  dust  shall  hear 
The  trumpet's  quickening  sound, 

And,  by  my  Saviour's  power  rebuilt, 
At  his  right  hand  be  found. 

These  eyes  shall  see  him  in  that  day,  — 

The  God  that  died  for  me  ; 
And  all  my  rising  bones  shall  say, 

'•  Lord,  who  is  like  to  thee  ?  " 

If  such  the  views  which  grace  unfolds, 

Weak  as  it  is  below. 
What  raptures  must  the  Church  above 

In  Jesus'  presence  know  ! 

If  such  the  sweetness  of  the  stream. 

What  must  the  fountain  be. 
Where  saints  and  angels  draw  their  bliss 

Immediately  from  thee  ! 

Oh,  may  the  unction  of  these  truths 

Forever  with  me  stay, 
Till,  from  her  sinful  cage  dismissed, 

My  spirit  flies  away  ! 

Augustus  M.  Toplady. 


COME  AND  see: 


"  Come  and  See. 


177 


MASTER,  where  abidest  thou  ? 
Lamb  of  God,  'tis  thee  we  seek 
For  the  wants  which  press  us  now 

Other  aid  is  all  too  weak. 
Canst  thou  take  our  sins  away  ? 
May  we  find  repose  in  thee  ? 
From  the  gracious  lips  to-day, 

As  of  old,  breathes,  "  Come  and  see." 

blaster,  where  abidest  thou  .'' 

We  would  leave  the  past  behind  ; 
We  would  scale  the  mountain's  brow, 

Learning  more  thy  heavenly  mind. 
Still  a  look  is  all  our  lore,  — 

The  transforming  look  to  thee  : 
From  the  Living  Truth  once  more 

Breathes  the  answer,  "  Come  and  see. 

?>Iaster,  where  abidest  thou  ? 

How  shall  we  thine  image  best 
Bear  in  light  upon  our  brow. 

Stamp  in  love  upon  our  breast  ? 
Still  a  look  is  all  our  might : 

Looking  draws  the  heart  to  thee  ; 
Sends  us  from  the  absorbing  sight 

With  the  message,  "Come  and  see." 


178         HYMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Master,  where  abidest  thou  ? 

All  the  springs  of  life  are  low  ; 
Sin  and  grief  our  spirits  bow  ; 

And  we  wait  thy  call  to  go. 
From  the  depths  of  happy  rest 

Where  the  just  abide  with  thee, 
From  the  Voice  which  makes  them  blest, 

Comes  the  summons,  "  Come  and  see." 

Christian,  tell  it  to  thy  brother. 

From  life's  dawning  to  its  end,  — 
Every  hand  may  clasp  another, 

And  the  loneliest  bring  a  friend, 
Till  the  veil  is  drawn  aside. 

And,  from  where  her  home  shall  be, 
Bursts  upon  the  enfranchised  Bride 

The  triumphant  "  Come  and  see  !  " 

Author  of  "The  Cotta  Family.' 


The  Inner  Calm, 

CALM  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 
While  these  hot  breezes  blow  ; 
Be  like  the  night-dew's  cooling  balm 
Upon  earth's  fevered  brow. 


THE  INNER    CALM. 


179 


Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 

Soft  resting  on  thy  breast ; 
Soothe  me  with  holy  hymn  and  psalm, 

And  bid  my  spirit  rest. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm  : 

Let  thine  outstretched  wing 
Be  like  the  shade  of  Elim's  palm 

Beside  her  desert  spring. 

Yes,  keep  me  calm,  though  loud  and  rude 
The  sounds  my  ear  that  greet,  — 

Calm  in  the  closet's  solitude  ; 
Calm  in  the  bustling  street  ; 

Calm  in  the  hour  of  buoyant  health  ; 

Calm  in  my  hour  of  pain  ; 
Calm  in  my  poverty  or  wealth  ; 

Calm  in  my  loss  or  gain  ; 

Calm  in  the  sufferance  of  wrong, 

Like  Him  who  bore  my  shame  ; 
Calm  'mid  the  threatening,  taunting  throng 

Who  hate  thy  holy  name  ; 

Calm  when  the  great  world's  news  with  power 

My  listening  spirit  stir, — 
Let  not  the  tidings  of  the  hour 

E'er  find  too  fond  an  ear  : 


l8o         HVMXS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Calm  as  the  ray  of  sun  or  star 
.     Which  storms  assail  in  vain, 
Moving  unruffled  through  earth's  war. 
The  eternal  calm  to  gain. 

HORATIUS    BONAR. 


The  Fellowship  of  Saints. 

HOW  blest  the  sacred  tie  that  binds, 
In  union  sweet,  according  minds  ! 
How  swift  the  heavenly  course  they  run 
Whose  hearts,  whose  faith,  whose  hopes,  arc 
one  ! 

To  each  the  soul  of  each  how  dear ! 
What  jealous  love  !  what  holy  fear  ! 
How  doth  the  generous  flame  within 
Refine  from  earth,  and  cleanse  from  sin  ! 

Their  streaming  tears  together  flow 
For  human  guilt  and  mortal  woe  ; 
Their  ardent  prayers  together  rise 
Like  mingling  flames  in  sacrifice. 

Together  both  they  seek  the  place 
Where  God  reveals  his  awful  face  : 
How  high,  how  strong,  their  raptures  swell, 
There's  none  but  kindred  souls  can  tell. 


THE  LORD'S  DAY.  ] 

Nor  shall  the  glowing  flame  expire 
When  Nature  droops  her  sickening  fire  ; 
Then  shall  they  meet  in  realms  above,  — 
A  heaven  of  joy,  a  heaven  of  love. 

Anna  L/Etitia  Barbauld. 


The  Lord's  Day. 

OTIME  of  tranquil  joy  and  holy  feeling, 
When  over  earth  God's  Spirit  from  above 
Spreads  out  his  wings  of  love  ; 
When  sacred  thoughts,  like  angels,   come  ap- 
pealing 
To  our  tent-doors  !     O  eve  !  to  earth  and  heaven 
The  sweetest  of  the  seven. 

How  peaceful  are  thy  skies  !  thy  air  is  clearer, 
As  on  the  advent  of  a  gracious  time. 

The  sweetness  of  its  prime 
Blesseth    the   world,   and    Eden's    days    seem 

nearer : 
I  hear,  in  each  faint  stirring  of  the  breeze, 

God's  voice  among  the  trees. 

Oh  !  while  the  hallowed  moments  are  distilling 
Their  fresher  influence  on  my  heart  like  dews, 
The  chamber  where  I  muse 


1 82  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

Turns  to  a  temple.     He,  whose  converse  thrill- 
ing 
Honored  Emmaus  that  old  eventide, 
Comes  sudden  to  my  side. 

'Tis  light  at  evening-time  when  thou  art  pres- 
ent : 
Thy  coming  to  the  Eleven  in  that  dim  room 

Brightened,  O  Christ !  its  gloom. 
So  bless  my  lonely  hour,  that  memories  pleasant 
Around  the  time  a  heavenly  gleam  may  cast. 

Which  many  days  shall  last. 

Raise  each  low  aim,  refine  each  high  emotion, 
That  with  more  ardent  footstep  I  may  press 

Toward  thy  holiness  ; 
And,  braced  for  sacred  duty  by  devotion, 
Support  my  cross  along  that  rugged  road 

Which  thou  hast  sometime  trod. 

I  long  to  see  thee  ;  for  my  heart  is  weary. 
Oh  !    when,    my    Lord,    in   kindness    wilt    tliou 
come 
To  call  thy  banished  home  ? 
The   scenes   are   cheerless,  and   the   days   are 

dreary  : 
From  sorrow  and  from  sin  I  would  be  free. 
And  evermore  with  thee. 


PANTING  FOR   JESUS.  183 

Even  now  I  see  the  golden  city  shining 

Up  the  blue  depths  of  that  transparent  air  : 
How  happy  all  is  there  ! 

There   breaks    a   day  which   never  knows   de- 
clining ; 

A  sabbath,  through  whose  circling  hours  the 

blest 

Beneath  thy  sliadow  rest. 

James  D.  Burns. 


Panting  for  Jesus. 

MY  soul,  amid  this  stormy  world, 
Is  like  some  fluttered  dove. 
And  fain  would  be  as  swift  of  wing 
To  flee  to  Him  I  love. 


The  cords  that  bound  my  heart  to  earth 

Are  broken  by  His  hand  : 
Before  His  cross  I  found  myself 

A  stranger  in  the  land. 

That  visage  marred,  those  sorrows  deep, 

The  vinegar  and  gall,  — 
These  were  His  golden  chains  of  love 

His  captive  to  inthrall. 


184  HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

I\Iy  heart  is  with  Him  on  His  throne, 

And  ill  can  brook  delay  ; 
Each  moment  listening  for  the  voice, 

"  Rise  up,  and  come  away  !  " 

With  hope  deferred,  oft  sick  and  faint, 
"Why  tarries  He?"  I  cry: 

Let  not  the  Saviour  chide  my  haste  ; 
For  then  would  I  reply, 

"  May  not  an  exile,  Lord,  desire 
His  own  sweet  land  to  see  ? 

May  not  a  captive  seek  release  ? 
A  prisoner,  to  be  free  ? 

"A  child,  when  far  away,  may  long 
For  home  and  kindred  dear : 

And  she  that  waits  her  absent  Lord 
j\Iay  sigh  till  he  appear. 

"  I  would,  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  know 
That  which  no  measure  knows  ; 

Would  search  the  mystery  of  thy  love, 
The  depth  of  all  thy  woes. 

"  I  fain  would  strike  my  harp  divine 
Before  the  Father's  throne, 

There  cast  my  crown  of  righteousness, 
And  sing  what  irrace  has  do'ne. 


■MV  HEART  FAILETHr 


1S5 


"Ah  !  leave  me  not  in  this  base  world, 

A  stranger  still  to  roam  : 
Come,  Lord,  and  take  me  to  thyself; 

Come,  Jesus,  quickly  come  !  " 

Robert  C.  Chapman. 


"  My  Flesh  and  my  Heart  faileth." 

IN  weakness  at  Thy  feet  I  lie  : 
Thine  eye  each  pang  hath  seen. 
Scarce  can  I  lift  my  heart  on  high  ; 
Yet,  Lord,  on  thee  I  lean^  — 

Lean  on  thy  sure,  unfailing  word. 

Thy  gentle  "  It  is  I  ;  " 
For  thou,  my  ever-living  Lord, 

Know'st  what  it  is  to  die. 

Thou  wilt  be  wnth  me  when  I  go,  — 

Thy  life  my  life  in  death  ; 
For,  in  the  lowest  depths,  I  know 

Thine  arms  are  underneath. 

'Tis  not  the  infant's  feeble  grasp 
Which  holds  the  mother  fast : 

It  is  the  mother's  gentle  clasp 
Around  her  darlinjr  cast. 


86         HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

Just  SO  thy  child  would  cling  to  thee, 

Knowing  thy  pity  long  ; 
For,  feeble  as  my  faith  may  be. 

Thy  hand  I  clasp  it  strong. 

Author  of  "The  Cotta  Family.' 


Hymn  for  the  Holy  Communion. 

AT  this  thy  banquet,  Lord  of  all, 
May  less  than  angel  dare  to  sup  ? 
The  crumbs  that  from  thy  table  fall 
Unworthy  we  to  gather  up. 

Yet,  oh  !  too  poor  to  turn  away. 

Too  glad  to  own  thy  gracious  claim, 

We  stay  because  thou  bid'st  us  stay. 
Despite  our  garb  of  want  and  shame. 

Before  thine  altar  kneeling  low, 
We  bare  our  sinful  hands  to  thine  : 

O  holy  Lord  !  thy  pity  show. 

And  cleanse  us  with  thy  touch  divine. 

Fill  thou  these  empty  palms  with  food, — 
The  bread  thou  broughtest  from  above  ; 

This  cup  with  thy  most  precious  blood, — 
The  wine  of  thy  atoning  love. 


A    PRAYER    TO   CHRIST. 


187 


The  hunger  and  the  thirst  we  plead 
No  meaner  feast  could  satisfy  : 

O  Saviour  !  in  our  utter  need, 

Thou,  thou  must  feed  us,  or  we  die  ! 

Harriet  McEvven  Kimball. 


A  Prayer  to  Christ. 

I   THIRST,  thou  wounded  Lamb  of  God, 
To  wash  me  in  thy  cleansing  blood  ; 
To  dwell  within  thy  wounds  :  then  pain 
Is  sweet,  and  life  or  death  is  gain. 

Take  my  poor  heart,  and  let  it  be 
Forever  closed  to  all  but  thee  ; 
Seal  thou  my  breast,  and  let  me  wear 
That  pledge  of  love  forever  there. 

How  blest  are  they  who  still  abide 
Close  sheltered  in  thy  bleeding  side  ; 
Who  life  and  strength  from  thence  derive. 
And  by  thee  move,  and  in  thee  hve  ! 

What  are  our  works  but  sin  and  death, 
Till  thou  thy  quickening  Spirit  breathe  ? 
Thou  giv'st  the  power  thy  grace  to  move  : 
Oh  wondrous  grace !  oh  boundless  love  ! 


88         HYMNS   OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE 

How  can  it  be,  thou  heavenly  King, 
That  thou  shouldst  us  to  glory  bring  ; 
Make  slaves  the  partners  of  thy  throne, 
Decked  with  a  never-fading  crown  ? 

Hence  our  hearts  melt ;  our  eyes  o'erflov/  ; 
Our  words  are  lost ;  nor  will  we  know 
Nor  will  we  think  of  aught  beside,  — 
"  My  Lord,  my  Love,  is  crucified." 

Ah,  Lord  !  enlarge  our  scanty  thought 
To  know  the  wonders  thou  hast  wrought ; 
Unloose  our  stammering  tongues  to  tell 
Thy  love  immense,  unsearchable. 

First-born  of  many  brethren  thou  ! 
To  thee,  lo  !  all  our  souls  we  bow  ; 
To  thee  our  hearts  and  hands  v/e  give  : 
Thine  may  we  die,  thine  may  we  live. 

From  Dessler,  by  Weslky. 


Walk  in  the  Light. 

WALK  in  the  light ;  so  shalt  thou  know 
That  fellowship  of  love 
His  Spirit  only  can  bestow 
Who  reigns  in  light  above. 


THIXGS  HOPED  FOR. 


189 


Walk  in  the  light,  and  thou  shalt  find 

Thy  heart  made  truly  His 
Who  dwells  in  cloudless  light  cnslirined, 

In  whom  no  darkness  is. 

Walk  in  the  light,  and  sin  abhorre:! 

Shall  ne'er  defile  again  : 
The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Lord 

Shall  cleanse  from  every  sin. 

Walk  in  the  light,  and  e'en  the  tomb 
No  fearful  shade  shall  wear  : 

Glory  shall  chase  away  its  gloom  ; 
For  Christ  hath  conquered  there. 

Walk  in  the  light,  and  thou  shalt  see 
Thy  path,  though  thorny,  bright ; 

For  God  by  grace  shall  dwell  in  thee, 
And  God  himself  is  liofht. 


Things  hoped  for. 

THESE   are   the   crowns  that  we  shall 
wear 
When  all  thy  saints  are  crowned  ; 
These  are  the  palms  that  we  shall  bear 
On  yonder  holy  ground. 


HVMXS  OF   THE  HIGHER  LIFE. 

Far  off  as  yet,  reserved  in  heaven, 

Above  the  veihng  sky, 
They  sparkle,  like  the  stars  of  even, 

To  hope's  far-piercing  eye. 

These  are  the  robes,  unsoiled  and  white. 

Which  then  we  shall  put  on, 
When,  foremost  'mong  the  sons  of  light,  ; 

We  sit  on  yonder  throne. 

That  city  with  the  jewelled  crest,  l 

Like  some  new-hghted  sun,  j 

A  blaze  of  burning  amethyst,  —  \ 

Ten  thousand  orbs  in  one,  —  \ 

That  is  the  city  of  the  saints. 

Where  we  so  soon  shall  stand, 
When  we  shall  strike  these  desert-tents,  j 

And  quit  this  desert-sand. 

These  are  the  everlasting  hills,  ; 

With  summits  bathed  in  day  ;  ' 

The  slopes  down  which  the  living  rills,  \ 

Soft-lapsing,  take  their  way.  ] 

Fair  vision,  how  thy  distant  gleam  ' 

Brightens  time's  saddest  hue  !  ] 

Far  fairer  than  the  fairest  dream,  "; 

And  yet  so  strangely  true  !  ■ 


THINGS  HOPED  FOR. 

Fair  vision,  how  thou  liftest  up 
The  drooping  brow  and  eye  ! 

With  the  calm  joy  of  thy  sure  hope 
Fixing  our  souls  on  high. 

Thy  light  makes  even  the  darkest  page 
In  memory's  scroll  grow  fair  ; 

IManching  the  lines  v^^hich  tears  and  age 
Had  only  deepened  there. 

With  thee  in  view,  the  rugged  slope 

Becomes  a  level  way, 
Smoothed  by  the  magic  of  thy  hope, 

And  gladdened  by  thy  ray. 

With  thee  in  view,  how  poor  appear 
The  world's  most  winning  smiles  ! 

Vain  is  the  Tempter's  subtlest  snare, 
And  vain  hell's  varied  wiles. 

Time's  glory  fades  ;  its  beauty  now 
Has  ceased  to  lure  or  blind  : 

Each  gay  enchantment  here  below 
Has  lost  its  power  to  bind. 

Then  welcome  toil  and  care  and  pain  ! 

And  welcome  sorrow  too  ! 
All  toil  is  rest,  all  grief  is  gain, 

With  such  a  prize  in  view. 


191 


192 


HVJI.VS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Come,  crown  and  throne  !  come,  robe  and  palm  !  \ 

Burst  forth,  glad  stream  of  peace  !  ' 

Come,  holy  city  of  the  Lamb  ! 

Rise,  Sun  of  Righteousness  !  ; 

When  shall  the  clouds  that  veil  thy  rays  \ 

Forever  be  witlxirawn  ?  \ 

Why  dost  thou  tarry,  day  of  days  ?  '\ 

When  shall  thy  gladness  dawn  ?  *               j 

HORATIUS   BONAR.  ; 


All  Things  are  Yours. 

MINE  !  — What  rays  of  glory  bright 
Now  upon  the  promise  shine  ! 
I  have  found  the  Lord  my  light ; 
I  am  his,  and  he  is  mine. 

Mine  !  —  the  promise  often  read, 
Now  in  living  truth  impressed, 
Once  acknowledged  in  the  head, 
Now  a  fire  within  the  breast. 

Mim  no  more  the  crimson  stains.  — 
Here  I  see  them  blotted  out ; 
Mine  no  more  the  bonds  and  chains  ; 
Mine  no  more  the  fear  and  doubt. 


ALL    THINGS  ARE    YOURS.  1Q3 

Mine  acceptance  at  the  throne  ; 
Mine  the  Father's  owning  smile  ; 
Mine  the  Father's  love  unknown, — 
What  shall  from  that  love  bcGfuile  ? 


Mine  the  yoke  that's  lined  with  love  ; 
Mine  the  imputed  righteousness  ; 
Mine  the  armor  for  the  fight ; 
Mine  the  way  of  holiness. 

Mine  the  mighty  Paraclete  : 
Such  a  weight  of  glory's  given 
Unto  me  !  — a  worm  like  me  !  — 
Here  in  part,  the  whole  in  heaven. 

Mine  !  — though  oft  my  hand  may  fail. 
He  is  strong,  and  holds  me  fost  ; 
His  dear  blood  shall  still  prevail ; 
He  shall  lead  me  home  at  last. 

Mine  !  — When  death  the  bars  shall  break, 

'Mid  the  glories  all  divine, 

"  Satisfied  "  I  shall  awake. 

Clasp  his  feet,  and  call  him  mine! 

E.  Z.  B. 
13 


194 


Hyj/XS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Look,  a\d  be  saved. 


THERE  is  life  for  a  look  at  the   Crucified 
One; 
There  is  life  at  this  moment  for  thee  : 
Then  look,  sinner,  look  unto  Him,  and  be  saved  ; 
Unto  Him  who  was  nailed  to  the  tree. 

Oh  !  why  was  he  there  as  the  bearer  of  sin, 

If  on  him  all  thy  sins  were  not  laid  ? 
Oh  !  why  from  his  side  flowed  the  sin-cleansing 
blood, 

If  his  dying  thy  debt  hath  not  paid  ? 

It  is  not  thy  tears  of  repentance  or  pra}'ers, 
But  the  blood,  that  atones  for  the  soul : 

On  Him,  then,  who  shed  it,  thou  mayest  at  once 
Thy  weight  of  iniquities  roll. 

His    anguish  of   soul   on    the    cross  hast  thou 
seen  ? 

His  cry  of  distress  hast  thou  heard  ? 
Then  why,  if  the  terrors  of  wrath  he  endured, 

Should  pardon  to  thee  be  deferred  ? 

Thou  art  healed  by  his  stripes,  (wouldst  thou 
add  to  the  word  .'^) 
And  he  is  thy  righteousness  made  ; 


'PERFECT  IN  love:' 


195 


The  best  robe  of  heaven  he  bids  thee  put  on  : 
Say,  couldst  thou  be  better  arrayed  ? 

Then  doubt  not  thy  pardon,  since  God  has  de- 
clared 

Tliere  remaineth  no  more  to  be  done  ; 
That  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  he  appeared. 

And  completed  the  work  he  begun  : 

But  take  with  rejoicing  from  Jesus  at  once 

The  life  everlasting  he  gives  ; 
And  know  with  assurance  thou  never  canst  die. 

Since  Jesus  thy  righteousness  lives. 

There  is  life  for  a  look  at  the  Crucified  One  ; 

There  is  life  at  this  moment  for  thee  : 
Then  look,  sinner,  look  unto  him,  and  be  saved. 

And  know  thyself  spotless  as  he. 


"  Perfect  in  Love." 

PERFECT  in  love  !  "—Lord,  can  it  be. 
Amidst  this  state  of  doubt  and  sin,  — 
While  foes  so  thick  without  I  see. 

With  weakness,  pain,  disease,  within, — 
Can  perfect  love  inhabit  here. 


iq6       hymns  of  the  higher  life. 

O  Lord  !  amidst  this  mental  night, 

Amidst  the  clouds  of  dark  dismay, 
Arise  !  arise  !  shed  forth  thy  light. 
And  kindle  love's  meridian  day. 
My  Saviour  God,  to  me  appear ; 
So  love  shall  triumph  over  fear. 


The  River  of  Life. 

THERE  is  a  pure  and  peaceful  wave 
That  rolls  around  the  throne  of  love, 
Whose  waters  gladden  as  they  lave 
The  peaceful  shores  above. 

While  streams  which  on  that  tide  depend 
Steal  from  those  heavenly  shores  away, 
And  on  this  desert  world  descend, 
O'er  weary  lands  to  stray,  — 

The  pilgrim,  faint,  and  nigh  to  sink 
Beneath  his  load  of  earthly  woe, 
Refreshed  beside  their  verdant  brink, 
Rejoices  in  their  flow. 

There,  O  my  soul  !  do  thou  repair. 
And  hover  o'er  the  hallowed  spring, 


THE   PEACE   OF  GOD.  197 

To  drink  the  crystal  wave,  and  there 
To  lave  thy  wearied  wing. 

There  droop  that  wing  when  far  it  flies 
From  human  care  and  toil  and  strife, 
And  feed  by  those  still  streams  that  rise 
Beneath  the  tree  of  life. 

It  may  be  that  the  waft  of  love 
Some  leaves  on  that  pure  tide  has  driven, 
Which,  passing  from  the  shores  above, 
Have  floated  down  from  heaven. 

So  shall  thy  wounds  and  woes  be  healed 
By  the  blest  virtue  that  they  bring  ; . 
So  thy  parched  lips  shall  be  unsealed, 
Thy  Saviour's  praise  to  sing. 


The  Peace  of  God. 

WE  ask  for  peace,  O  Lord  ! 
Thy  children  ask  thy  peace  : 
Not  what  the  world  calls  rest ; 

That  toil  and  care  should  cease  ; 
That  through  bright,  sunny  hours 
Calm  life  should  fleet  away. 


198  HVMyS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

And  tranquil  night  should  fade 

In  smiling  day  : 

It  is  not  for  such  peace  that  we  would  pray. 

We  ask  for  peace,  O  Lord  ! 

Yet  not  to  stand  secure, 
Girt  round  with  iron  pride, 

Contented  to  endure, 
Crushing  the  gentle  strings 

That  human  hearts  should  know. 
Untouched  by  others'  joys 
Or  others'  woe  : 
Thou,  O  dear  Lord  I  wilt  never  teach  us  so. 

We  ask  thy  peace,  O  Lord  ! 

Through  storm  and  fear  and  strife 
To  light  and  guide  us  on 

Through  a  long,  struggling  life, 
While  no  success  or  gain 

Shall  cheer  the  desperate  fight. 
Or  nerve  what  the  world  calls 
Our  wasted  might, 
Yet  pressing  through  the  darkness  to  the  light. 

It  is  thine  own,  O  Lord  ! 

Who  toil  while  others  sleep  ; 
Who  sow  with  loving  care 

What  other  hands  shall  reap  : 


THY   WILL    BE   DOXE. 


199 


They  lean  on  thee,  entranced 

In  calm  and  perfect  rest. 
Give  us  that  peace,  O  Lord  ! 
Divine  and  blest, 
Thou  keepest  lor  those  hearts  who  love  thee  best. 

A.  A.  Procter. 


"  Thy  Will  be  done." 

OXLY  silently  resigned 
To  the  counsels  of"  Thy  mind  ; 
Willing,  yet  rejoicing  not, 
That  Thy  purpose  shall  be  wrought 

Is  this  truly  to  submit  ? 
Folding  placid  hands,  to  sit. 
While  innumerable  feet 
Thy  triumphant  coming  meet  ? 

Shall  we  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done," 
And  on  our  own  errands  run  .-^ 
Vain  and  evil  the  design 
W^e  pursue  apart  from  Thine. 

Teach  us  how  to  live  this  prayer  ; 
Reverently  Thy  plans  to  share  ; 
More  than  echoes  of  Thy  voice, 
Make  us  partners  in  Thy  choice. 


HYMNS  OF   THE  HIGHER   LIFE. 

Lift  us  up  to  catch  from  Thee 
World-encircHng  sympathy  ; 
Ardor,  strength,  and  courage  give  ; 
As  Thou  livest,  let  us  hve. 

Let  our  deeds  be  syllables 

Of  the  prayer  our  spirit  swells ; 

In  us  Thy  desire  fulfil ; 

By  us  work  Thy  gracious  will. 

Lucy  Larcom. 


'•'Take  up  thy  Cross,  and  follow  Me." 

THE  way  seems  long,  dear  Leader;  and  my 
feet 
Are  weary,  pressing  oft  these  thorns.     'Twere 

sweet, 
Methinks,  to  rest.     This  heavy  cross  remove  : 
Thou  surely  need'st  not  thus  my  love  to  prove. 
"Rest   not,    weak    heart,    nor   lay   thy   burden 

down  : 
For  earth's  short  rest  wouldst  lose  thy  heavenly 

crown  ? " 

The  way  is  dark,  dear  Leader  ;  mists  arise 
That  hide  thy  blessed  presence  from  my  eyes  : 


"TAKE    UP    THY  cross:'  20I 

I  Stumble  on  this  lonely  mountain  wild  : 

0  loving  Father  !  spare  me,  spare  thy  child. 

"  Dost  hear  my  voice  ?     Then  follow  as  I  bade: 
Thou'rt  safe  if  firm  on  me  thy  trust  is  stayed." 

But  I  am  faint,  dear  Leader,  and  I  sink  ; 

"My steps  are  well-nigh  gone;"  upon  the  brink 

1  helpless  fall :  put  forth  thy  mighty  power, 
And  save  me,  loving  Father,  in  this  hour. 

"  Drink  freely  of  the  brook  that  floweth  by ; 
Then  lift  thy  head,  — thy  Leader  still  is  nigh." 

And  must  it  thus,  dear  Leader,  ever  be  ? 
And  may  we  here  no  resting-place  e'er  see  1 
Though  faint  and  weary,  light  or  dark  the  way. 
Press  forward  e'en  to  reach  heaven's  blessed 

day  } 
"Enough    that,   as    the    Master,  thou  shouldst 

live  : 
Faithful  to  death,  thou  shalt  tlie  crown  receive." 

Onward,  dear  Jesus  I  safely  by  thee  led, 

"  Faint,  yet  pursuing,"  still  the  path  Til  tread  : 

Gird  me  with  strength,  then  all  my  praver  shall 

be, 
"  Father,  e'en  so  ;  it  seemeth  good  to  thee." 
"And,  as  thy  days,  thy  strength  shall  ever  be  ; 
While  heaven's  eternal  glory  waiteth  thee." 


HVMXS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Summer  in  the  Soul. 

AUTUMN  was  on  the  earth, 
When  Summer  came  to  me,  — 
The  ••  Summer  in  the  soul,"  — 
And  set  the  hfe-springs  free. 

Darkness  was  on  my  life, 

A  heavy  weight  of  night, 
When  the  Sun  arose  within, 

And  filled  my  heart  with  light. 

Ice  lay  upon  my  heart, 
Ice-fettcrs  still  and  strong, 

When  the  living  spring  gushed  forth. 
And  filled  my  soul  with  song. 

That  Summer  shall  not  fade  ; 
That  Sun  it  setteth  never  ; 
The  fountain  in  my  heart 

Springs  full  and  fresh  forever. 

Since  I  have  learned  thy  love, 
'Sly  Summer,  Lord,  thou  art,  — 

Summer  to  me,  and  day, 

And  life-springs  in  my  heart. 


SUMMER   IX   THE    SOUL. 

Since  I  have  learned  thou  art, 
Thou  livest,  and  art  love, 

Art  love,  and  lovest  me, 
Fearless  I  look  above. 

Thy  blood  blots  out  my  sin  ; 

Thy  love  casts  out  my  fear  : 
Heaven  is  no  longer  far, 

Since  thou,  its  Sun,  art  near. 

Here  thou  abid'st  awhile. 
Here  in  the  night  with  me  : 

Soon  thou  wilt  take  me  home,  — 
Home  to  thy  light,  with  thee, 

Where  is  no  night,  nor  eyes 

Which,  weeping,  long  for  night : 

Eyes  whence  thou  wip'st  the  tears 
Can  bear  thy  cloudless  light. 

Summer,  life-fountains,  day. 

Within,  around,  above. 
Where  we  shall  see  thy  face, 

Where  we  shall  feel  thy  love  ! 

Author  of  "The  Cotta  Family. 


203 


2  04         IfVMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


Press  On. 

BE  brave,  my  brother  ! 
Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith 

With  weapons  proved  and  true  ; 
Be  faithful  and  unshrinking  to  the  death 

Thy  God  will  bear  thee  through. 
The  strife  is  terrible  ; 

Yet  'tis  not,  'tis  not  long : 
The  foe  is  not  invincible, 
Thouiih  fierce  and  stronof. 


Be  brave,  my  brother  ! 

The  recompense  is  great, 

The  kingdom  bright  and  fair : 
Beyond  the  glory  of  all  earthly  state 

Shall  be  the  glory  there. 
Grudge  not  the  heavy  cost, 

Faint  not  at  labor  here  ; 
'Tis  but  a  life-time  at  the  most : 

The  day  of  rest  is  near. 

Be  brave,  my  brother  ! 

He  whom  thou  servest  slights 

Not  even  His  weakest  one  ; 
No  deed,  though  poor,  shall  be  forgot, 

However  feebly  done  : 


FJ^ESS  ON. 


205 


The  prayer,  the  wisli,  the  thought, 

The  faintly-spoken  word, 
The  plan  that  seemed  to  come  to  nought, 

Each  has  its  own  reward. 

Be  brave,  my  brother  ! 

Enlarge  thy  heart  and  soul ; 

Spread  out  thy  free,  glad  love  ; 
Encompass  earth,  embrace  the  sea, 

As  does  the  sky  above  : 
Let  no  man  see  thee  stand 

la  slothful  idleness. 
As  if  there  were  no  work  for  thee 

Jn  such  a  wilderness. 

Ue  brave,  my  brother  ! 

Stint  not  the  liberal  hand  ; 

Give  in  the  joy  of  lov^e  : 
So  shall  thy  crown  be  bright,  and  great 

Thy  recompense  above  ; 
Reward,  not  like  the  deed. 

That  poor,  weak  deed,  of  thine, 
But;  like  the  God  himself  who  gives, 

Eternal  and  divine. 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 


2c6  flVMNS  OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 


The  Promise  of  Sanctificatiok. 

GOD  of  all  power  and  truth  and  grace, 
Which  shall  from  age  to  age  endure  ; 
Whose  word,  when   heaven  and  earth    shall 
pass, 
Remains  and  stands  forever  sure,  — 


Calmly  to  thee  my  soul  looks  up. 
And  waits  thy  promises  to  prove, 

The  object  of  my  steadfast  hope. 
The  seal  of  thine  eternal  love. 

That  I  thy  mercy  may  proclaim. 

That  all  mankind  thy  truth  may  see, 

Hallow  thy  great  and  glorious  name, 
And  perfect  holiness  in  me. 

Chose  from  the  world  if  now  I  stand. 
Adorned  in  righteousness  divine  ; 

If,  brought  into  the  promised  land, 
I  justly  call  the  Saviour  mine,  — 

Perform  the  work  thou  hast  begun  ; 

My  inmost  soul  to  thee  convert ;, 
Love  me,  forever  love  thine  own  ; 

And  sprinkle  with  t!iy  blood  my  heart. 


prom: SB   OF  SANCTIFICATIO::.  2C-j 

Thy  sanctifying  Spirit  pour, 

To  quench  my  thirst  and  wash  me  clean : 
Now,  Father,  let  the  gracious  shower 

Descend  and  make  me  pure  from  sin. 

Purge  me  from  every  sinful  blot  ; 

My  idols  all  be  cast  aside  ; 
Cleanse  me  from  every  evil  thought, 

From  all  the  filth  of  self  and  pride. 

Give  me  a  new  and  perfect  heart, 

From  doubt  and  fear  and  sorrow  free  ; 

The  mind  which  was  in  Christ  impart. 
And  let  my  spirit  cleave  to  thee. 

Oh  !  take  this  heart  of  stone  away, — 
(Thy  rule  it  doth  not,  can  not,  own  ;) 

In  me  no  longer  let  it  stay  : 

Oh  !  take  away  this  heart  of  stone. 

The  hatred  of  my  carnal  mind 
Out  of  my  flesh  at  once  remove  ; 

Give  me  a  tender  lieart,  resigned 

And  pure,  and  filled  with  faith  and  love. 

Within  me  thy  good  Spirit  place,  — 
Spirit  of  health  and  love  and  power, — 

Plant  in  me  thy  victorious  grace. 
And  sin  shall  never  enter  more. 


2o8         HVMXS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

Cause  me  to  walk  in  Christ  my  Way, 
And  1  thy  statutes  shall  fulfil, 

In  every  point  thy  law  obey, 
And  perfectly  perform  thy  will. 

Hast  thou  not  said,  who  canst  not  lie, 
That  I  thy  law  shall  keep  and  do  ? 

Lord,  I  believe,  though  men  deny  : 
They  all  are  false  ;  but  thou  art  true. 

Oh  that  I  now,  from  sin  released. 

Thy  word  might  to  the  utmost  prove  ; 

Enter  into  the  promised  rest, — 
The  Canaan  of  thy  perfect  love  ! 

There  let  me  ever,  ever  dwell  : 
Be  thou  my  God,  and  I  will  be 

Thy  servant.     Oh  !  set  to  thy  seal ; 
Give  me  eternal  life  in  thee. 

From  all  remaining  filth  within 
Let  me  in  thee  salvation  have  ; 

From  actual  and  from  inbred  sin 
My  ransomed  soul  persist  to  save. 

Wash  out  my  old  original  stain  : 
Tell  me  no  more,  "  It  cannot  be," 

Demons  or  men  !     The  Lamb  was  slain 
His  blood  was  all  poured  out  for  me  I 


PROMISE   OF  SANCTIFICATION.  209 

Sprinkle  it,  Jesus,  on  my  heart : 

One  drop  of  thine  all-cleansing  biood 

Shall  make  my  sinfulness  depart. 
And  fill  me  with  the  life  of  God. 

Father,  supply  my  every  need  ; 

Sustain  the  life  thyself  hast  given  ; 
Call  for  the  corn,  the  living  bread, — 

The  manna  that  comes  down  from  heaven. 

The  gracious  fruits  of  righteousness, 
Thy  blessings'  unexhausted  store. 

In  me  abundantly  increase  ; 
Nor  let  me  ever  hunger  more. 

Let  me  no  more,  in  deep  complaint, 
'"  My  leanness,  oh  !  my  leanness,"  cry. 

Alone  consumed  with  pining  want, 
Of  all  my  leather's  children,  1  ! 

The  painful  thirst,  the  fond  desire. 
Thy  joyous  presence  shall  remove  ; 

While  my  full  soul  doth  still  require 
The  whole  eternity  of  love. 

Holy  and  true  and  righteous  Lord, 
I  want  to  prove  thy  perfect  will : 

Be  mindful  of  thy  gracious  word. 
And  stamp  me  with  thy  Spirit's  seal. 


//yjf.VS   OF   THE   HIGHER  LIFE. 

Th}'  faithful  mercy  let  me  find, 

In  which  thou  causest  me  to  trust ; 

Give  me  thy  meek  and  lowly  mind, 
And  lay  my  spirit  in  the  dust. 

Show  me  how  foul  my  heart  hath  been, 
When  all  renewed  by  grace  I  am  : 

When  thou  hast  emptied  me  of  sin. 
Show  me  the  fulness  of  my  shame. 

Open  my  faith's  interior  eye, 
Display  thy  glory  from  above, 

And  all  I  am  shall  sink  and  die. 
Lost  in  astonishment  and  love. 

Confound,  o'erpower  me  with  thy  grace  ; 

I  would  be  by  myself  abhorred  : 
(All  might,  all  majesty,  all  praise, 

All  glory,  be  to  Christ  my  Lord  ! ) 

Now  let  me  gain  perfection's  height ; 

No^v  let  me  into  nothing  fall, — 
Be  less  than  nothing  in  thy  sight; 

And  feel  that  Christ  is  all  in  all. 

Charles  Wesley. 


closer  to  thee.  2ii 

Closer  to  Thee. 

SAVIOUR  !  I  follow  on, 
Guided  by  thee, 
Seeing  not  yet  the  Hand 

That  leadeth  me. 

Hushed  be  my  heart,  and  still ; 

Fear  I  no  further  ill : 

Only  to  meet  thy  will 

My  will  shall  be. 

Riven  the  rock  for  me, 

Thirst  to  relieve  ; 
Manna  from  heaven  falls, 

Fresh  every  eve  : 
Never  a  want  severe 
Causeth  my  eye  a  tear, 
But  thou  dost  whisper  near, 

"  Only  beheve  !  " 

Often  to  Marah's  brink 

Have  I  been  brought  ; 
Shrinking  the  cup  to  drink. 

Help  I  have  sought  ; 
And,  with  the  prayer's  ascent, 
Jesus  the  branch  hath  rent, 
Quickly  relief  hath  sent, 

Sweetening  the  drau2;ht. 


212          HVMXS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE.  .. 

Saviour  !  I  long  to  walk  \ 

Closer  with  thee  ;  j 
Led  by  thy  guiding  hand 

Ever  to  be  ; 

Constantly  near  thy  side,  : 

Quickened  and  purified,  j 

Living  for  Him  who  died  \ 


Freely  for  me. 


C.  S.  Robinson. 


Come,  Jesus  ;  and  come  quickly. 

JESUS,  I  love.     Come,  dearest  name! 
Come,  and  possess  this  heart  of  mine 
I  love,  though  'tis  a  fainter  flame. 
And  infinitelv  less  than  thine. 


Oh  !  if  my  Lord  would  leave  the  skies, 
Dressed  in  the  rays  of  mildest  grace. 
My  soul  would  hasten  to  my  eyes 
To  meet  the  pleasures  of  his  face. 

How  would  I  feast  on  all  his  charms, 
Then  round  his  lovely  feet  intwine  ! 
Worship  and  love,  in  all  their  forms, 
Should  honor  beauty  so  divine. 


O VER    THE   S UNSE T  SEA.  2  1 3 

In  vain  the  Tempter's  flattering  tongue  ; 
The  world  in  vain  should  bid  me  move,  — 
In  vain  ;  for  I  should  gaze  so  long, 
Till  I  were  all  transformed  to  love. 


Then,  mighty  God  !   I'd  sing  and  say. 
"What  empty  names  are  crowns  and  kings  ! 
Among  them  give  these  worlds  away, — 
These  httle  despicable  things." 

I  would  not  ask  to  climb  the  sky. 
Nor  envy  angels  their  abode  : 
I  have  a  heaven  as  bright  and  high 
In  the  blest  vision  of  my  God. 

Isaac  Watts. 


Over  the  Sunset  Sea. 

LAST  night  an  arrow  of  light  fell  down 
At  the  feet  of  a  sad,  earth-weary  one. 
Whose  prayer  was  ever,  in  sorrow's  hour, 

"  Heavenly  Father,  thy  will  be  done." 
Upward  she  glanced  at  the  sapphire  sky  ; 
The  sunset  waves  were  rolling  high  ; 
And  an  angel  stood  on  the  far-off  shore  : 


2  14         HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

He  beckoned  to  her  with  his  shining  hand, — 
"  I  have  found  tliee  a  home  in  the  Eden  land, 
Where  storms  of  earth  are  known  no  more  : 
Our  Father  sent  me  to  guide  thee  o'er." 

Then  a  rainbow-bridge  the  angel  laid 
Over  the  sea  ;  and  he  took  her  hand, 

And  led  her  on  through  a  golden  mist, 
Over  the  bridge,  to  the  Eden  land. 

Bright  forms  she  saw,  as  a  shower  of  light 

Fell  from  their  wings  like  sunbeams  bright ; 

Voices  she  heard,  —  and  she  knew  them  too, — 
"  Come  to  us,  mamma,  we're  waiting  for  you, 
Here,  on  the  shore  of  the  sunset  sea." 

They  opened  for  her  the  gates  of  gold  ; 

They  led  her  up  to  the  great  white  throne  ; 
And,  as  she  knelt  at  her  Saviour's  feet. 

He  smiled  upon  her,  and  said,  "  Well  done  ! 
Thou  hast  followed  me  long  in  the  narrow  w?y  ; 
From  the  path  of  duty  thou  didst  not  stray  : 

Now  thou  shalt  rest  ;  thy  work  is  o'er." 
As  the  waves  of  the  sunset  sea  grew  dim, 
The  sweet  stars  sang  their  evening  hymn  : 
Its  burden  was  (I  can  hear  it  still), 

"  Watch  and  pray  ;  "  and  1  mean  to,  until 

I,  too,  shall  find  rest  on  the  "  shining  shore." 

CoNGREGATIONALIST. 


THOUGHTS   OF  HOME. 


Thoughts  ok  Home. 


215 


I'VE  been  thinking  of  home  ;  of  "  my  Father's 
house, 
Where  the  many  mansions  be  ;  " 
Of  the  city  whose  streets  are  paved  with  gold  ; 
Of  its  jasper  walls,  so  fair  to  behold. 

Which  the  righteous  alone  shall  see. 

I've  been  thinking  of  home,  where  they  need 
not  the  light 

Of  the  sun,  nor  moon,  nor  star  ; 
Where  the  gates  of  pearl  "  are  not  shut  by  day, 
For  no  night  is  there,"  but  the  weary  may 

Find  rest  from  the  world  afar. 

I've  been  thinking  of  home  ;  of  the  river  of  life 
That  flows  through  the  city  so  pure  ; 

Of  the  tree  that  stands  by  the  side  of  the  stream. 

Whose  leaves  in  mercy  with  blessings  teem, 
The  sin-wounded  soul  to  cure. 

I've  been  thinking  of  home,  of  the  loved  ones 
there, 

Dear  friends  who  have  gone  before. 
With  whom  we  walked  to  the  death-river  side, 
And  sadly  thought,  as  we  watched  the  tide, 

Of  the  happy  days  of  yore. 


2i6         HYMNS   OF   THE   HIGHER   LIFE. 

I've  been  thinking  of  liome  ;  and  my  heart  is  full 

Of  love  for  the  Lamb  of  God, 
Who  his  precious  life  as  a  ransom  gave 
For  a  sinful  race,  e'en  our  souls  to  save 

From  Justice'  avenging  rod. 

Fve  been  thinking  of  home,  and  I'm  homesick 
now  : 

My  spirit  doth  long  to  be 
In  "the  better  land,"  where  the  ransomed  sing 
Of  the  love  of  Christ,  their  Redeemer,  King  ; 

Of  mercy  so  costly,  so  free. 

I've   been    thinking   of    home,  —  yea,    "home, 
sweet  home  I  " 

Oh  !  there  may  we  all  unite 
With  the  white-robed  throng,  and  forever  raise 
To  the  Triune  God  sweetest  songs  of  praise 

With  glory  and  honor  and  might ! 


Index  of  Subjects  and  Authors. 


SUBJECT. 

"  Come  up  Hither "  .  .  . 
The  Believer's  Consecration 
The    Song    of   the    Angels 

above  

Looking  to  the  Cross  .  .  . 
Toiling  all  the  Night  .  .  . 
Divine  Adoption      .... 

The  Method 

Prisoners  of  Hope  .... 

Peace    

The  Indwelling  Spirit  .  . 
I  am  His,  and  He  is  Mine  . 
The  Soul's  Surrender  .     .     . 

What  Then? 

Bring  the  Children  with  You 
My  .Saviour    .     .  ... 

Come  unto  Me 

Praj'er 

Pentecost 

Create  in  Me  a  Clean  Heart 
A  German  Trust-song  .  . 
The  White  Raiment  .  .  . 
Working  with  Thee     .     .     . 

The  Friend 

Nothing  to  Do 

My  Angel-dress 


AUTHOR.  PAGE. 

Mrs.  A.  B.  C.  Keene  ...       9 
RkJiard  Baxter 11 


Isaac  Watts 

CJiarles  Wesley  .... 
John  Keble 

Madame  Giiyon  .  .  . 
George  Herbert  .... 
Charles  I  Fes  ley  .... 
George  Herbert  .... 
Thomas  Take  Lyiich  .  . 
Henry  Fraitcis  Lyte  .  . 
Philip  Doddridge     .     .     . 

E-7.     

Julia   Gill 

Dora  Greenwell  ... 
From  St.  Stephen  .  .  . 
George  Herbert  .... 

John  Keble 

Charles   Wesley  .... 

Lampertius 

Horatiiis  Bonar      ... 
A  nniversary  F.  G.  Society  , 
3Ta?y  dimmer  A  mes      .     . 

N.  E 

Lncy  Larco7H 


I.YDEX  OF  suByEcrs. 


SUBJECT. 

The  Offering 

Let  Us  draw  Near  .... 
Resignation  to  Christ  .  .  . 
Thoughts  of  Christ  .  .  . 
A  Litile  Bird  I  am  .  .  .  . 
Forsaken,  yet  Hoping      .     . 

Our  Master 

The  Love  of  God  .... 
"When  thou  hast  shut  thy 

Door,  pray"  .... 
Christ  loved  Unseen  .  .  . 
"Abide    in   Me,   and    I    in 

You" 

I  have  found  It 

Pencil-marks  in  a    Book  of 

Devotion 

The  Refuge 

"  Ye  did  it  not  to  Me  "  .  . 
A  Sacramental  Hymn  .  . 
The  Holy  Catho'.ic  Church  . 
"  When  I  awake,  I  am  still 

with  Thee  " 

The  Master's  Invitation  .  . 
Sitting  at  the  Feet  of  Jesus. 
The  Fellowship  of  Suffering 
I'he  Throne  of  Grace .     .     . 

Perfection 

Draw  Me  to  Th^^e  .... 
Jesus,    the    Ladder    of  my 

Faith  ...... 

Prayer  against  the  Power  of 

Sin 

Trust 

Noue  but  Thee 


AUTHOR. 

Harriet  M'Ewen  KiinbxU 
Herat  his  Bonar    . 
Charles  Wesley 
Bernard  of  Fontam 
Madame  Guyon     . 
Isaac  Watts      .     . 
Whittier  .... 
F.  A  zistin .... 


Mary  E.  Atkhison 
Ray  Palmer      .     . 


Harriet  BeecJier  Stowe 
Mrs.    Charles,    A  iithor 
'■  Cotta  Family  " 


Dora  Greenwell 
diaries  Wesley . 
N.  Y.  Observer. 
H oral  ins  Bonar 
F.  B.  P.    .     .     . 


Harriet  BeecJier  Stowe 
A.  D.  F.  Ra7idolph    . 

7-H 

Theodore  Tilton    .     . 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott 

Faber 

M.A.W.      .... 


^/ 


Harriet  31' E  wot  Kimball 

Charles  IVesley  .  .  . 
Deafi  of  Canterbury  .  . 
Angel  us 


PAGE. 

58 


IXDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


219 


SUBJECT. 

AUTHOR. 

PAGE. 

"  Not  My  Will,  but  Thine, 

be  done  " 

JoJm  Keble 

118 

The  Robe  of  Holiness     .     . 

Prof.  r.  C.  Upham   .     . 

121 

A  Closer  Walk  with  God      . 

Christian  hitelligenccr  . 

122 

Self-consecration      .... 

Isaac  Watts      .... 

•        124 

Take    me,   O    my    Father! 

take  me 

Ray  Palmer     .... 

126 

The   Way,   the  Truth,  and 

the  Life 

A  uthor  of-'  Cotta  Family  ' 

'        1^7 

In  Him  we  live 

Horatiiis  Bo}iar    .     .     . 

129 

To  Yonder  Side      .... 

Robert  Murray  M'Cheyne 

130 

Thus  would  I  live  .... 

J,  H 

n5 

Union  with  Christ  .... 

Prof.  T.  C.  Uphain    .     . 

134 

Panting  for  Divine  Love 

Charles  Wesley      .    .     . 

135 

Humble  Service      .... 

Harriet  JlPEtuen  Kimball    137 

Forever  with  the  Lord    .     . 

fames  Montgomery  .     . 

13S 

Simple  Trust 

Mada-,ne  Guy  on    .     .     . 

139 

The  Hidden  Life    .... 

Willuim  Co-djper   .     .     . 

141 

The  Hour  of  Prayer  .     .     . 

iMiss  CJiarlotte  Elliott  . 

142 

The  Cancelled  Bond  .     . 

143 
144 

Hear  my  Cry 

Horatius  Bonar    .     .     . 

Glory  to  God  alone      .     .     . 

Madarne  Guy  on     .     . 

146 

Rejoicing  in  Hope  .... 

CJiarles  Wesley      .     .     . 

143 

'I'he  Voyage 

Mrs.  Mary  Alaxzvell    . 

150 

A  Heavenly  Breeze     .     .     . 



157 

The   Gospel  in   the   Lord's 

Supper     

A  uthor  of"'  Cotta  Family  ' 

158 

Love  to  Christ,   Present  or 

Absent 

Isaac   Watts      .... 

irx) 

The  Alpine  Sh,«ep  .... 

Mrs.  Maria  Lozvell 

162 

Renouncin"'''  the  World 

y.  Taylor.     .    .     , 

1^3 
165 

"  Surely  I  come  quickly  "     . 

John  Mason      . 

Jesus 

Philip  Doddridge 

167 

'J  he  Rest  from  Sin  .... 

CJuirles   Wesley 

168 

Geihsemane 

Joseph  Hart      . 

171 

220 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


AUTHOR.  PAGE. 

Augustus  M.  Toplady    .     .  174 

A  uthor  of  "  Cotta  Family  "  177 

Horatius  Bonar     .     .     .     .  178 

Anna  L<Etitia  Barhauld     .  iSo 

James  D.  Bums    .     .     .     .  iSi 

Robert  C.  CJiapjnan    ,     .     .  183 

A  utJur  0/  "  Cotta  Faviily  "  185 


Harriet  M'Ewen  KimbnU , 
From  Dessler,  by  IVcsley    . 


SUBJECT. 

A  Meditation  in  Sickness     . 

"Come  and  See "  .     .     .     . 

The  Inner  Calm     .... 

The  Fellowship  of  Saints  . 

The  Lord's  Day     .... 

Panting  for  Jesus  .... 

"  My  Flesh  and  my  Heart 
faileth  " 

Hymn  for  the  Holy  Com- 
munion   

A  Prayer  to  Christ     .     .     . 

Walk  in  the  Light 

Things  hoped  for  ....     Horaiiics  Bonar      .     .     . 

All  Things  are  Yours      .     .     E.  Z.  B 

Look,  and  be  saved 

"  Perfect  in  Love  " 

The  River  of  Life 

The  Pence  of  God      .     .     .     A.  A.  Procter    .... 

"  Thy  Will  be  done "      .     .     Lucy  Larco}n     .     .     .     . 

"  Take   up  tlry  Cross,  and 

follow  Ms  " 

Summer  in  the  Soul  .     .     .     A  titJior  of  "■  Cotta  Family 

Press  On Horatius  Bonar     .     .     . 

The  Promise  of  Sanctifica- 

tion C/ia?-les  JFesley .... 

Closer  to  Thee      .     .     .     .     C.  S.  Robinson   .... 

Come,    Jesus  ;     and    come 

quickly Isaac  IVatts 

Over  the  Sunset  Sea     .     .      The  Co7igregatio7ialist    . 

Thoughts  of  Home 


187 
188 
189 
192 
194 
195 
196 
197 
199 

200 
202 
204 

206 


213 
215 


Index  of  First  Lines. 


PAGE. 

After  our  child's  untroubled  breath 162 

After  the  Christian's  tears 33 

A  little  bird  I  am 67 

Art  thou  weary?  art  thou  languid? 37 

At  this  thy  banquet,  Lord  of  all 186 

Autumn  was  on  the  earth 202 

Be  brave,  my  brother ! 204 

r.ehind  the  hills  of  Naphtali 130 

Blest  be  thy  love,  dear  Lord 77 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm  .     .     .     .     .     .     .  17S 

Come,  and  rejoice  with  me Si 

Come  from  the  dimness  of  the  past 52 

Come,   my  fond,  fluttering  heart 163 

Dear  Lord,  thy  table  is  outspread 99 

Downward  through  the  still  air  falling 9 

I'.arth  has  detained  me  prisoner  long 13 

f'orever  with  the  Lord  ! 13S 

God  of  all  power  and  truth  and  grace 206 

God  of  unfathomable  love 42 

Gracious  Spirit,  dwell  with  me 2S 

Happy  the  hours,  the  golden  days 69 


2  22  INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Heavenly  Father,  I  would  wear 56 

He  gave  me  back  the  bond 143 

Here,  O  my  Lord !   I  see  thee  face  to  face 94 

How  blest  the  sacred  tie  that  binds iSo 

How  happy  are  the  new-bom  race 21 

I  am  not  skilled  to  understand 36 

I  know  not  if  or  dark  or  bright 115 

I  know  that  my  Redeemer  lives 148 

I  know  Thou  art  not  far 129 

Immortal  Love,  forever  full 70 

In  weakness  at  Thy  feet  I  lie 185 

In  weariness  and  pain 17 

1  sat,  and  gazed  upon  my  sunny  home 86 

I  sojourn  in  a  vale  of  tears 165 

It  comes,  it  comes!     I  know  not  why 157 

It  grieves  me.  Lord,  it  grieves  me  sore 124 

I  thirst,  thou  wounded  Lamb  of  God 1S7 

It  is  an  easy  thing  to  say 137 

I've  been  thinking  of  home,  of  my  "Father's  house"    .  215 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home 95 

Jesus,  I  love.     Come,  dearest  name  I 212 

Jesus,  I  love  thy  charming  name 167 

Jesus,  the  ladder  of  my  faith no 

Jesus,  these  eyes  have  never  seen 79 

Jesus,  while  he  dwelt  below 171 

Jesu,  the  very  thought  of  thee 66 

Just  as  God  leads  me  I  would  go 47 

Last  night  an  arrow  of  light  fell  down 213 

Long  did  I  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest 30 

Lord,  I  believe  a  rest  remains i53 

Lord,  I  desire  to  live  as  one 133 

Lord,  I  have  shut  my  door 78 

Lord,  weak  and  impotent  I  stand loq 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


223 


Master,  where  abidest  thou? 177 

Mine!  —  what  rays  of  glory  bright 192 

My  God!  is  any  hour  so  sweet 142 

My  sou',  amid  this  stormy  worid 1S3 

My  whole  though  broken  heart,  O  Lord! 11 

No  gospel  like  this  feast 158 

Nolhirg  fair  on  earth  1   see 116 

"  Nothing  to  do  "  in  this  world  of  ours 55 

O  Lord  my  God  !    do  thou  thy  holy  will iiS 

O  Loved  !    but  not  enough,  though  dearer  far    ...     .  146 

(3  Love  divine,  how  sweet  thou  art! 135 

O  strong  to  save  and  bless 144 

O  time  of  tranquil  joy  and  holy  feeling 181 

Of  all  the  joys  we  mortals  know 160 

Of  what  an  easy,  quick  access 39 

Oh  for  a  closer  walk  with  God 123 

Oh  happy  day  that  fixed  my  choice 32 

Oh,  how  the  thought  of  God  attracts 107 

Oh  that  Thou  wouldst,  the  heavens  rent 112 

Only  silently  resigned 199 

"  Perfect  in  love  !  "  —  Lord,  can  it  be 195 

Poor  heart,  lament 22 

Prisoners  of  hope,  lift  up  your  heads 24 

Saviour!    I  follow  on 211 

Saviour,  is  there  any  thing    .     .          58 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus loi 

Sometimes  I  upward  lift  mine  eyes 121 

Still,  still  without  ceasing 139 

Still,  still,  with  Thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh     .  98 

Strong  words  are  these:  "O  Lord!    I  seek  but  thee"    .  S3 

Sweet  Peace,  where  dost  thou  dwell?   I  humbly  crave    .  26 


224 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Take  me,  O  my  Father  I    take  me 126 

That  mystic  word  of  thine,  O  sovereign  Lord  !  .     .     .     .  80 

The  babe,  the  bride,  the  quiet  dead 4g 

The  livelong  night  we've  toiled  in  vain 18 

"The  Master  has  come  over  Jordan" 34 

There  is  a  pure  and  peaceful  wave 196 

There  is  a  spot  of  consecrated  ground 105 

There  is  life  for  a  look  at  the  Crucified  One      ....  194 

'I'hese  are  the  crowns  that  we  shall  wear 189 

The  way  seems  long,  dear  Leader ;  and  my  feet     .     .     .  200 

Thej^  love  their  blessed  Leader.     Not  more  close  .     .  134 

Thou  art  the  Way 127 

Thy  cruel  crown  of  thorns 103 

To  tell  the  Saviour  all  my  wants 141 

To  the  haven  of  Thy  breast 84 

'Twas  lovely  all, — this  glorious  earth 150 

Walk  in  the  light;  so  shalt  thou  know 188 

We  ask  for  peace,  O  Lord  ! 197 

When  God  of  old  came  down  Irom  heaven 40 

When  languor  and  disease  invade 174 

When  shall  I'hy  love  constrain 64 

Why  stand  I  lingering  without 63 

Working,  O  Christ !    with  thee 51 


Stkkeotyi'ed  a.nd  Pkinted  by  Geo.  C.  Ra.nd  &  Avekv, 
Boston. 


